f  ML 

50 
M45/5 

ie$o 


UC-NRLF 


'  FAUVETTE. 


\   COMIC   OPERA    IN    THREE   ACTS, 


BY 


ANDRE  MESSAGER. 


TRANSLATED    ANIi    ADAITED    FROM      I'TIE    FRENCir    I'.V 


B.  E.  WOOLF  AND  R.  M.  FIELD, 


(As  First  PRoDuciin  in  America  at  the  Boston  Museum.) 


ORCHESTRATION    BY    MR.   GEO.    PURDY. 


Copyright,  1890,  by  B.  E.Woolk  ami   K.  M,  Firr.n. 


FAUVETTE. 


A   COMIC   OPERA   IN   THREE   ACTS. 


BY 


ANDRE  MESSAGER. 


•>9<- 


TRANSLATED   AND   ADAPTED   FROM    THE   FRENCH    BY 

B.  E.  WOOLF  AND  R.  M.  FIELD. 


(As  First  Produced  in  America  at  the  Boston  Museum. 


ORCHESTRATION    BY    MR.   GEO.   PURDY. 


Copyright,  1890,  by  B.  E.  Woolf  and  R.  M.  FlEij). 


DRAMATIS   PERSON/E. 


SAINT-ANGENOR. 

JOSEPH  ABRIAL. 

PIERRE  AUBERTIK 
AHMED. 

TRECOURT. 

CRANSAC. 

BOU  MALEK. 

FAUVETTE. 
ZELIE. 

ALL 

TARATA. 

ROSETTE. 

Conscripts,  Zouaves,  Arars,  Grisettes,  and  Working-People.  • 

The  first  Act  passes  in  Paris  in  tlie  Rotunda  of  the  Temple  (1840).    The  second  and  third  Acts  pass  in         , 
Algiers  (1842). 


'^m- 


f,      Scc^rT  ^/^ir^ 


TYPOGRAPHY,    PRESSWORK,    AND   BINDING,    BY   F.    H.    GILSON,    BOSTON. 


FAUVETTE. 


ML  so 

MHsFa 


ACT    I. 


Scene  :  The  liotunda  of  the  Temple.  Houses  R.  tC  L. 
L.  I.  E.  shop  of  Fauvetti:,  the  floioer-girl.  11. 
wine-shop.  At  back  the  Rotunda  of  the  Temple 
with  shops  of  old-clothes  dealers,  second-hand  fur- 
niture, etc. 

Tradespeople,  friends,  neifjhhors,  and  idlers  discovered 
goimj  and  cominy :  the  men  rubhimj  their  hands 
joi/ouslif,  and  pointin</  to  the  conscripts  vjho  are 
drinking  at  Zelie's  shop  as  she  is  pinning  ribbons 
on  their  hats. 

Chorus.     Closed  are  all  the  shops  to-daj' ; 

There's  no  buying  and  no  selling. 
Customers,  without  more  telling, 

Need  not  here,  to  purchase,  stay, 
The  day  we  all  of  us,  give  up 

To  idleness,  and  song,  and  dance ; 
So,  Temple  conscripts,  fill  the  c\ip. 

And  drink  unto  the  god  of  chance. 
Of  mirth  set  us  the  first  example ; 

To-day,  the  lots  are  drawn  ; 
And  so  the  brave  lads  of  tha  Temple 
Their  fate  will  know  this  morn. 
(Zelie,  quitting  the  door  of  the  flower-shop, at  which  she 
has  installed  herself,  loith  her  ribbons,  and  where 
the  conscripts  have  surrounded  her,  brings  her  table 
to  the  centre  of  the  stage.) 
Zelie.        Let 's  see  !  Here  my  shop  will  I  station  ; 
For  of  trade,  there  is  such  an  inflatiou 
That  my  wares  I  can  scarcely  vend, — 
They  hustle  and  push  without  end. 
(To  conscripts.)  This  way;  stand  in  liu'^,  and  attend. 
On  cap  or  breast  should  b3  displayed 
A  pretty  knot,  or  a  cockade. 
Or  ribbons  floating  from  a  bow, 
The  glory  you  have  won,  to  show 
You  know  thit  on  each  holiday 

We  are  obliged  to  celebrate. 
In  flags  and  standards  we  array 

The  public  buildings  of  th.'  State  : 
And  therefor?,  if  you  '11  but  r3flect, 

You  will,  I'm  certain,  all  agree 
That  very  similarly  decked. 

You,  on  this  public  fete,  should  be. 
Chorus.     On  cap,  or  breast,  should  be  displayed, 

etc.,  etc. 
Zelie.        The  conscript,  to  boribbon,  't  is 

The  custom,  as  you  all  well  know; 
'T  will  even  on  an  ugly  phiz 
A  sort  of  dignity  bestow. 
The  sight,  how  gratefully  it  greets 

To  view  him  thus  with  ribbons  graced ! 
Like  salad,  dressed  with  eggs  and  beets, 
It  glads  the  eye  and  tempts  the  taste. 
Chorus.     On  cap,  or  breast,  etc. 
Zelie.        Who  next?  pray. 

Come,  no  debating. 
For,  on  this  day,  [  ing. 

For  lack  of  cash,  there  's  no  need  wait- 
And  so  step  up,  without  delay. 
Who  next?  pray. 


Tui:couiir.     'TisI! 

JosKPH  (stopping  him).     No,  no! 

It  is  not  so. 

For  I  am  late. 

And  cannot  Avait. 
Tkecouut  (sarcastically).     Oh,  indeed! 
Joseph.     Yes,  I  have  now  in  my  shop, 

Chins  to  shave  and  wigs  to  curl, 

And  long  h  -ra  I  cannot  stop, 
With  my  brain  in  such  a  whirl. 
Tregourt.     It  is  my  turn,  as  you  shall  see,  sir ! 
Joseph.     But  I  was  first  to  draw  the  lot. 
Trecourt.     That  fact  is  naught  at  all  to  me,  sir! 

And  so  you  to  the  foot  must  trot. 
Chorus  (deriding  Joseph) .    Ha,  ha,  ha !    Barber,  go ! 

To  the  foot,  you  must  trot. 
Zelie  (interposing  angrily). 

Listen  to  a  word  from  me. 

And  don't  be  so  energetic. 

By  the  order  alphabetic, 

Abrial,  sure,  first  should  be. 
Trecourt  (laughing) .     To  the  foot,  Abrial. 
(Prevents  Joseph //"om  advancing.) 
Chorus  (jeering) .     To  the  foot,  Abrial. 

Ho,  ho,  ho ! 

Barber,  go ! 
Zelie  (angrily) .     Since  then  you  act  so  A-ery  blindly, 
r  11  sell  my  wares  where  I  desire. 

Toward  .41)rial  I  feel  quite  kindly. 
And  I  serve  first,  him  I  admire ! 
CiiORVfi  (jeeringly).     What  loving  fire! 

(Imitating.)     I  serve  him  first  whom  I  admire ! 
Trecourt  (obstinately) . 

That 's  well  enough ;  but,  after  all,  sir. 

Too  many  ribbons  to  you  fall,  sir; 

And  or  by  foul  means,  or  by  fair. 

The  half  of  them  shall  be  my  share, 

Or  else  I'  11  strike  !     (  Threatens.) 
Joseph  (loith  fear) .     Your  blow  withhold,  sir. 

For  no  one  here  needs  to  be  told,  sir, 

That  brave  as  you  I  cannot  be. 

Because  you  're  twice  as  strong  as  me. 
Trecourt.     Those  ribbons,  then,  at  once  divide  me, 

That  yonder  angry  shreAV  denied  me  ! 

Joseph  (boldly) .  Such  words  of  her  you  shall  not  say  ! 
So  change  your  tune  without  delay, 
Or  else  III  strike! 

Trecourt  (laughs).     Whence  this  uprising 
In  you  of  valor,  so  surprising? 

Joseph  (bettveen  fear  and  courage). 

Respect  my  Zelie,  or  we'll  try 
Who  is  the  stronger  —  you  or  I ! 

Trecourt.     She  must  srive  me,  I  insist, 

Half  your  ribbons ! 
.Joseph.     No,  no,  no ! 

She  shall  not.  [3] 


(vi-359519 
/A 


FAUVETTE. 


Trecourt.     Ah!  say3ouso? 
Then  we  shall  see. 
Zelie  (putting  herself  before  Joseph). 
You  coward  I     Desist ! 
Do  no  harm,  you  shall. 
To  ray  Abrial. 
Chorus  (mockingly).     Do  no  harm,  you  shall, 

To  this  poor  Abrial. 
Trecourt  (breaking  from  Zelie). 

Oppose  me  not.     He  needs  a  drilling. 
Joseph  (aside  with  terror). 

Within  me  all  my  blood  is  chilling. 
Thecoitkt  (to  conscript).  Here,  take  my  coat. 
Joseph.     And  here  is  mine. 

(Aside  and  looking  about.) 
How  I  fear  me  ! 

Friend  of  my  youth,  if  you  were  near  me, — 
Pierre,  who  for  ma  will  ever  tight. 
Trecourt  (ready  tojight).     I  wait! 
Joseph  (aside). 

If  I  could  only  make  him  hear  me, 
But  he,  alas,  is  not  in  sight. 
Trecourt  (advancing  threateningly).     You  debate  ! 
Joseph  (advancing).  I'm  prepared,  so  stop  your  row. 
Trecourt.     Very  good. 
Joseph  (recoiling).     Not  just  now! 
Trecourt.     "We  shall  see. 
Joseph.     Go  away.     Help ! 

(^Enter  Pierre.) 
Pierre  (to  Joseph). 

Hallo!     What  now?     What  do  yon  fear? 
(Pierre  stops  Trecourt  icith  a  gesture.) 
Omxes.     'T  is  Pierre ! 

Trecourt.     '  T  is  well,  Pierra  Aubertin.    Again  you 
The  oftence  of   your  friend.  [defend 

Pierre  (places  .Joseph  behind  him).     As  you  see  ! 
And  right  or  wrong,  I  care  no  jot. 
Touch  him,  you  shall  not. 
Trecourt.     Indeed?  That  rests  with  me ! 

(Rushes  on  Joseph,  bnt  Pierre  ;>?(<s  forward  his 
foot  and  trips  Trecourt.) 
Pierre.     I  am  through  : — 

Pray,  are  you? 
C.Honvs (jeering  at  Trecourt).     Ah,  ah,  ali! 
Trecourt  (rising,  loith  rage). 

My  friend,  never  fear. 
This  shall  cost  you  dear. 
(Bushes  toimrds  Pierre,      llie  chorus  restrains  him.) 
Pierre  (to  Trecourt). 

If  you  desire  to  try  again, 
I,  at  your  service,  will  remain. 
Joseph  (to  Trecourt)  . 

And  so,'t  is  ribbons  you  desire. 
(To  Pierre)  Friend  Pierre,  for  thesa  he  was  on  fire. 
His  rage  they  fed 
Until  he  wished  to  break  my  head. 
Zelie.     'T  is  really  so.     Be  friends. 

(  Joins  their  hands).     I  these  on  you  bestow. 
Trecourt  gives  his  hand  to  Pierre.     Joseph    gives 
his  hand  to  both,  while  the  rest  surround  Zelie,  who 
decorates  them  vnth  ribbons. 

On  cap,  breast,  etc,  etc. 
Joseph,  (again  shaking  hands  with  Pieure  and 
Trecourt).  Ah  !  this  is  the  way  the  lads  of  the 
Temple  always  settle  their  quarrels. 
Trecourt.  Lads  of  the  Temple  ?  If  it  comes  to 
that,  I  am  more  one  than  you  are,  for  I  was 
born  ia  the  Rotunda. 


Zelie.  All  of  us  were  born  here. 
Trecourt.  Yes,  but  I  have  always  worked  there, 
while  you,  Joseph  Abrial,  are  hair-dresser  at 
the  Opera  Comique,  and  you,  Pierre  Aubertin, 
are  a  typesetter  in  the  royal  printing-establish- 
ment. As  for  me,  I  have  remained  loyal  to  the 
traditions  of  my  ancestors,  and  am  a  dealer  in 
old  clothes. 
Omnes.     Bravo,  Trecourt. 

JosEPft  (giving  him  a   cane  ichich  one   of  the    neigh- 
bors has  carried).     And  that  is  why  our  friends 
and  I  have  not  forgotten  you.     Take  this  cane. 
(A  cane  with  a  large  gold  head.) 
Pierre  (  taking  a   bunch   of    feathers    from  another 

neighbor) .     And  this  badge  of  honor. 
Trecourt  (moved) .      This     cane    and     plume     for 
ma  ?     Ah,  friends,  this  touches  me  to  the  heart. 
If  ever  I  become  a  soldier,  it  is  my  ambition  to 
ba  a  drum-major. 
Zelie.     It  has  its  advantages  —  in  battle,  you  go  to 

the  rear. 
Joseph.      Zelie,    I    object    to   your    observing   the 
advantages,    personal  or  otherwise,  of  anybody 
but  myself. 
Zelie.     And  why  not  ? 
Joseph.     Supposa  I  am  drawn  as  a  soldier,  and  he  is 

not.     I  go, —  and  he  remains  at  home. 
Zelie.     Draw  a  lucky  number,  then. 
Joseph.     I  mean  to  do  so  if  I  can.     Nothing  forbids 
my  doing  so  bnt  bad  luck.     In  the  first  place,  I 
am  not  desperately  in  love  with  soldiering. 
Trecourt.     What,  a  coward  ? 

Joseph.  You  are  wrong,  Trecourt.  Not  a  coward, 
bnt  one  who  has  a  peaceful  distaste  for  fight- 
ing. It  is  merely  a  matter  of  preference. 
Soma  paople  like  lighting.  It  happens  that  I 
don't.  That  is  all.  A  man  may  have  his  likes  and 
dislikes,  I  suppose,  even  about  the  way  in  which 
ha  thinks  it  most  agreeable  to  go  to  the  next 
Avorld.  Besides,  the  Parisian  does  not  care  for 
the  military  trade.  He  is  not  a  coAvard  for  that 
—  See ! 
Omxes  (advancing) .  It  is  true. 
Joseph.     True  ?     I  should  say  so.     It 's  more  thau 

trne.     It 's  an  actual  fact. 
Joseph.     People  of  Paris  do  not  like 
The  military ; 
The  thought  they  soldiers  must  become, 

Makes  tham  quite  scary  ; 
'T  is  all  the  time  in  camp,  in  flle ; — 

Eyes  right,  eyes  left,  now  toe  the  line 
Cannot  the  dreary  day  beguile, 

But  make  them  for  their  freedom  pine. 
Fighting,  be  it  understood. 
Is  not  ia  tha  Parisian  blood. 
And  that  is  why  old  sons  of  battle, 
Used  to  the  musket's  stormy  rattle, 
Say,  "No,  no,  no!  he  will  not  suit; 
Your  Paris  man 's  a  bad  recruit !"' 
Chorus.     And  that  is  why,  etc. 
Trecourt.     In  uniform  your  Paris  man 
No  more  is  cynical. 
And  in  marauding  town  or  farm 

Is  never  finical. 
In  camp  or  field  he  is  at  home. 
From  duty  has  no  wish  to  roam, 
Sings  marry  songs,  and  makes  no  moan. 
And  thinks' the  world  is  all  his  own. 
Fighting,  be  it  understood. 
Is  in  the  true  Parisian  blood. 
And  that  is  why  old  sons  of  battle. 


FAUVETTE. 


Used  to  the  musket's  stormy  rattle, 
Say,  "  Ho,  ho,  ho!  who  will  dispute 
Your  Paris  man  's  a  gay  recruit?  " 
Chorus.     And  that  is  why,  etc. 
PiKRRE.      But  lads  of  Paries  are  not  slow 
When  war  is  thundering. 
And  in  the  pi'esence  of  the  foe 

Set  them  all  wondering. 
Then  do  they  marcli  before  us  all, 
Eager  to  triumph  or  to  fall; 
Heedless  of  bullet  or  of  sword, 
Causing  e'en  foemen  to  applaud. 
Fighting,  be  it  understood. 
Stirs  all  true  Parisian  blood. 
And  seeing  them,  old  sons  of  battle 
Used  to  the  musket's  stormy  rattle. 
Say,  "  Ha,  ha,  ha!  who  can  dispute 
Your  Paris  man  's  a  grand  recruit?" 
Chorus.     And  seeing  them,  etc. 
JosKPii.     It  is  true  that  at  present  there  is  fighting 
in  Africa;  but  they  don't  need  us  there.     In  fact, 
they  are  better  without  us,  while  here  at  home 
there  is  no  end  of  tender  little  hearts  that  only 
palpitate  because  we  are  near  them. 
Zklik.     Yes;    and  mine  palpitates   more  than   yon 

deserve. 
Joseph.     Really?  What  devotion  ! 
Pierre.     'Tis  true,  Joseph,  soldiering  is  not  a  prof- 
itable business.     There  is  much  glory  for  the 
generals ;  but  the  rank  and  tile  who  really  win  it 
do  not  share  its  advantages. 
Zelie.     To  say   nothing  of  being  parted  from  tlr- 
adored  of  one's  heart  for  seven  years,  and  left  a 
prey  to  all  the  torments  of  absence. 
Joseph.     Y'es,  and  possibly  the  pains  of  a  sword-cut 

or  a  bullet  in  the  back. 
Pierre.     In  the  back. 
Omsv^s  (reproachfully) .     Oh! 

Joseph  (apolotjetically) .  In  case  one  should  turn  his 
back  on  the  foe, —  (aside)  which  I  should  do, 
decidedly.  (Aloud)  To  be  exposed  to  sun  and 
rain  and  fatigue,  perhaps  hunger,  where  one  is 
as  devoted  to  his  regular  meals  at  their  regular 
hour  as  I  am;  to  be  continually  bobbing  your 
head  to  prevent  bullets,  maybe  cannon-balls, 
from  making  a  wrong  parting  in  your  hair, — is 
that  a  business  for  an  artistic  and  aspiring  bar- 
ber to  follow?  No ! 
Trecourt.  Bah!  Who  hints  at  such  tLings? 
Joseph.     I  do ! 

Trecourt.     We  arc  not  yet  soldiers.     Perhaps  we 
may  not  be  drawn.     Come,  let  us  go  and  wet  my 
presents,  and  drink  to  our  reconciliation. 
Joseph  axd  Omnes.     Ah,  yes !  Let  us  drink. 

(  Music  and  expunt,  except  Pierre  and  Zelie.) 
Pierre  (delaying  and  to  Zelie).     I  Avish  to  see  Fau- 

vette. 
Zelie.     She  is  uot  yet  in  her  shop.     She  is  beautify- 
ing herself  for  you.     You  'II  see  her  presently." 
Joseph  (at  hack).     Well,  Pierre,  are  vou  never  com- 

Ing? 
Pierre.     lam  with   you.     (Hastens  to  Joseph  and 

exits  tcith  him.) 
Zelie  (gazing  after  the  conscripts).      Poor  Joseph'. 
He  is  so  awkward  and  so  unlucky.     He  is  quite 
capable  of  drawing  a  bad  number.     Ah  !   a  cou- 
rier.    He  is  tying  his  horse  at  the  door  of  the 


tavern. 


(Enter  Crans.\c.) 


Crans.\c  (to  Zelie).  The  Rotunda  of  the  Temple, 
mademoiselle? 

Zelie.     You  are  in  it. 

Cransac.     NumbL'r  Nineteen? 

Zelie  (prnnting  to  a  door).     Tliere! 

Cransac  (taking  out  a  despatch).  Then  you  proba- 
bly know  also  a  person  answering  to  the  name  of 
Saint  Angenor,  said  to  be  a  first-rate  tenor  in 
every  branch  of  his  art,  and  a  professor  of  sing- 
ing. 

Zelie.  Ah!  yes.  He  took  up  his  lodgings  here  the 
day  before  yesterday.  He  lives  there  (points  to 
wine-shop),  on  the  second  floor  back. 

Cransac  (goes  to  door  and  calls).  Hallo!  some  one  ! 
(Enter  Polyte  from  inine-shop.)  My  lad,  Avill 
you  go  and  tell  your  superfine  lodger  that  some 
one  wishes  to  see  him?  (Polyte  how.'i  and  dis- 
appears.) The  Minister  of  Instruction  has  sent 
him  a  letter  post-haste. 

Zelie.  A  letter  post-haste  from  the  Minister  to  him  ! 
The  deuce !  I  never  dreamed  that  such  an  ab- 
surd fellow  had  relations  with  the  Government. 
Well,  that  is  his  affair.  Au  revoir,  Mr.  Courier. 
(Exit.) 

(Enter  Polyte.) 

Polyte.     Here  is  Monsieur  Angenor.     (Exit.) 

AsGK-soR  (outside).  Some  one  wants  m?.  Who  can 
it  be?     And  for  what?      (Enters  from  tavern.) 

Cransac.     Ah!  you  are  the  man,  then? 

.\s(iE:NOR.     My  very  self. 

C'ransac.     Great  tenor? 

Angenor.     Yes!  —  that  is,  I  was But,  alas!  one 

day  I  tried  to  sing  a  high  D,  and  I  broke  my  C- 
string. 

Crans.vc  (dumbfounded).     Broke  your  C-string ! 

Angenor.     In  a  crack!     Tra-la-la,  and  it  was  gone. 

Cransac.     Then  you  can't  be  the  great  tenor  I  was  — 

Angenor.     What,  do  you  doubt  me? 

ST.  ANGENOK. 

I  am  known  as  St.  Angenor, 
A  glorious  tenor,  all  adore. 
Would  you  hear  in  brief  my  story  ? 

In  a  word,"  Success  ! "  't  is  told ! 
All  the  world  knows  of  my  glory, 

I've  won  fame,  and  I've  won  gold. 
A  mere  boy,  full  of  ambition, 

When  on  my  career  I  start, 
I  atonc3  win  r?cognition 

As  a  master  of  my  art. 
How  they  applaud ! 
How  I'm  adori-d! 
The  women  love  me  as  a  duty. 
The  men  ai'e  jealous  of  my  beaaty. 

Ho,  ho,  ho! 
Who  does  uot  knoAV 
The  Postillion  of  Lonjumeau  ? 
Would  you  hear  in  brief  my  story  ? 

In  a  word,  "  Success  !  "  't  is  told  ! 
All  tin  world  knows  of  my  glory, 

I  've  won  fame,  and  I  've  won  gold. 

Brunette  or  blonde,  or  old  or  prvtty, 
All  at  my  feet  their  presents  pourc'd. 
Happy,  if  for  their  reward, 

I  gave  a  smile  by  way  of  pity. 

They  showered  on  me  jewels,  lockets, 
Letters  saying  things  so  sweet; — 
All  Europi!  I  had  at  my  feet, 

hpf\  had  her  sovereigns  in  my  pockets. 
Fortune,  though  thou  nrt  capricious. 

Come !  I  '11  join  my  fate  to  thine. 


FAUVETTE. 


Fate  is  unto  me  propitious, 
And  all  happiness  is  mine. 
I  can  t  11  ill  brief  my  story, 
In  a  word,  "Success!"  etc.  etc. 

AxGEXOR.  Just  think  of  my  ensfagements.  Spain, 
Russia,  and,  above  all,  America,  AVith  its  ele- 
phantine salri's  for  a  high  C.  I  hid  a 
phenomenal  C,  not  only  in  my  chsst  voic3,  but 
in  ray  stomach  as  well.  It  was  thrillins:,  over- 
whelmins:,  appalling.  They  waited  breathlessly 
to  hear  it  conn  out.  Th?  men  were  trans- 
ported, the  wom3U  bnrsted  their  gloves  applaud- 
ing me.  Bravo,  brava,  bravi !  (  He,  bows  as  if 
ackntuclcdijliij  a.  rccaU.)  Alas,  after  my  acci- 
dent   

Cransac.  When  you  l)roke  your  C  in  reaching  for 
your  D 

Angexou.  Exactly.  I  was  forced  to  leave  the 
operatic  stage.  Nations  went  into  mourning. 
FortunatL'ly,  I  had  accumulated  a  fortune  with 
my  C  bjfor:i  I  split  it  all  to  pieces  in  going  for 
the  D.  I  no  longer  sing  myself;  but  I  t?ach 
others  to  si,\g.  I  have  proposed  to  the  Conser- 
A^atory  a  method  of  singing,  or  the  art  of  tone 
production  on  gymnastic  principles. 

Cransac  {mnkiiKj  gestures).  Gymnastics.  I  under- 
stand that. 

Angknor.  Not  the  gymnastics  of  the  legs  and  arms, 
but  of  the  voice.  All  animals  sing  in  nature: 
the  jac'.cass  as  Avell  as  the  nightingale. 

Craxsac.  Bit  you  could  not  make  me  sing  like  the 
nightingale. 

AxGKNOR.  Perhaps !  I  am  going  to  make  you  emit 
a  sound  by  my  method.  Stand  with  your  chest 
well  forward,  your  head  up,  your  eyes  at  ease, 
^nd  your  stomach  unconstrained,  so  that  your 
diaphragm  can  work  frjely.  Now,  do  as  I  do. 
(Pose.s.j     La,  lay,  lee,  lo.loo! 

Craxsac  (iniitathif/  Jtim  awkwardhj).  La,  lay,  lee, 
lo,  loo! 

Angkxor  {taking  another  pose).  Lay,  lay,  lay! 
your  tongue  in  spoon-shape.     Lay,  lay  ! 

Craxsac  {as  before).     Lay,  lay,  lay! 

A^GMSOK  {another  pose) .  Lee,  lee,  lee!  Swallow 
your  tongue.     Lee ! 

Craxsac  {as  before).  Lee,  lee!  {Angenor,  in  striking 
another  2Mse,  gives  him  a  blow  in  the  face.)     Oh! 

AxGKXOR.  I  beg  pardon !  My  friend,  you  will 
never  sing  like  a  nightingale.  The  jackass  i-; 
more  in  your  way. 

Craxsac.  How  thirsty  your  method  makes  a 
fellow ! 

AxGKXOR.  Well,  then,  go  and  refresh  yourself. 
But  it  is  not  for  this  that  you  have  come. 

Craxsac;.  Ah !  I  Ind  forgotten.  It  was  about  a 
letter  from  the  Minister  of  Instruction. 

Angkxor.  Ah,  give  it.  His  Excellency  has  at  last 
condesceud-^d  to  answer  my  proposition.  What 
a  man  !  What  a  minister !  What  a  great  minis- 
ter!    Go  and  r^fr.-sh  yourself. 

Cr.vxsac;.  I  will!  How  dry,  though,  it  does  make 
one.  La,  lay,  lee!  {Stretches  out  leg,  and  kicks 
Angkxor,  tohn  pj^shes  him  into  the  tavern.) 

AmOKSOK  {opening  letter).  Let  us  see  what  this 
grjat  and  glorious  minister  has  written  me. 
{Beads  with  complacencij.)  "  His  Excellency, 
after  having  examined  your  method  of  singing 
entitled  'the  gymnastics  of  the  voice,'  has 
decided  " —  I  Avas  sure  of  it — "  that  he  has  not 
the  right  to  authorize  its  trial  by  the  Conserva- 
tory before  the  results  obtained  bv  this  method 


have  been  proved  efficacious." — What  an  incur- 
able idiot  of  a  great  minister.  How  are  results 
to  be  obtained  without  experiment  ?  Ah !  the 
ncAVspapers  are  right  i.i  demanding  an  examina- 
tion into  the  capacity'of  public  officers.  Here  is 
a  minister  who  is  incapable  of —  of  —  Why,  I'll 
Avag.^r  he  can't  sound  an  A-natural  to  save  his 
life. —  and  yet  he  assists  in  governing  France. 
I  will  write  him  a  letter  in  good  black  ink  that 
Avill  not  trouble  his  eyesight  to  read.  {Going 
toward  tavern  )  And  these  ar3  your  incorrupti- 
l)le  politicians.  Bah!  {Exit  into  tavern.) 
(ExTKR  Trkcol'rt,  Joskpii  and  Pikrre.) 
Trecocrt.      The    reconciliation    has   been   signed, 

sealed,  delivered  and —  swalloAved. 
JosKPH.     Yes,  in   tAvelve  glasses  of  claret  at  four 
sous  a  glass. 

(  ExTER  Zelie.) 
Pierre  {to  Zelie)  .    Fauvette  has  not  yet  come  down 

to  her  shop. 
ZvAAK.     No,  she  is  much  troubled  about  something. 
Trkcourt.      So  it  seems,  for  she  Avho  has  always 
begun  her  day's  Avork  with  a  song  has  not  been 
heard  to-day. 
JoiKPii.     It  is  an  evil  omen  Avhen  the  singing-bird  of 

the  Temple  does  not  sing. 
Tr.KCOURT.     I   believe  you.      Why,  she  is  the  A^ery 

life  of  the  Rotunda! 
Joskpii.     Ah !  if  my  Zelie  had  such  a  ti-easure  in  her 
throat,  hoAV  quickly  I  would  start  her  into  busi- 
ness Avith  it ! 
Zei.ik.     Perhaps  I  have,^ool,  after  all. 
Joskpii.    No  !  You  've  nothing  in  your  throat  but  the 
root  of  your  tongue,  and  you  keep  that  too  busy 
talking,  to  sing. 
Zemk.     Indeed  !  Well,  it  is  true,  Fauvette  has  a  dia- 
mond, a  veritable  diamond  of  a  A-oice.     {At  this 
moment  Faua'KTTE  sings  a  roulade  in  her  shop.) 
Ah !  Speak  of  the  —  of  Fauvette,  and  you  hear 
her  song. 
,lo!>KPn  {stopping   Zklik).     Hold!  She   does  not  see 

us.     Listen,  and  do  not  shoAV  ourselves. 
Oaixes.     Yes,  listen.     {They  conceal  themselves.) 
(Faua'ktte  enters  and  arranges  flowers  on  the  stand 

before  her  shop.) 
Faua^ette.  a  little  linnet  chanted 

Within  a  grove  near  by, 
With  song  its  bosom  panted 
And  echo  made  reply. 
Ah! 
But  this  echo,  heard  above, 
Was  another  tiny  bird. 
Whose  soft  note,  in  ansAVcr  heard, 
Trilled  the  same  SAVeet  song  of  love : — 
Spring  to  life  aAvakes  : 
Bnd  to  leaflet  passes. 
And  of  moss  and  grasses, 
Its  nest  the  linnet  makes. 
Angenor  {a}tpearin<i  at  windoiv  of  tavern). 

What  dol  hear  ? 
FAr\'ETTK.  This  pretty  tAvain,  together. 
On  one  branch  sat,  in  love; 
Beak  to  beak  in  sunny  Aveather, 
Thev  their  song  piped  in  the  grove. 
Ah! 
Both  now  chant  the  self-same  strain, 
Not  in  echo  as  before  : 
Loving  ever  more  and  more 
As  they  Avarble  their  refrain ; 
Spring  to  life  aAvakes, 
Bud  to  leaflet  passes, 


FAUVETTE. 


And  of  moss  and  grasses 
Its  nest  the  linnet  makes. 

Omnes  (coming  from  their  places  of  concealment). 
Bravo !     Bravo ! 

Angexor  (aside  at  loindoio) .  A  diva ;  a  real  diva ! 
I  must  speak  to  her.     (Disappears.) 

Fauvkttk  (smiles  and  shakes  her  finger  reproach- 
inglij).     And  so  you  listened  ? 

Pierre  (taking  her  hand  and  kissing  it).  Ah,  dear 
Fauvette ! 

Joseph.  Ah,  if  the  manager  of  the  Opera  Comique 
could  only  hear  you ! 

TiERRE  (resentfully) .    Joseph! 

JosEPFi.  Yes,  I  know  all  about  that.  You  object  to 
the  stag3 ;  but  I  am  not  an  operatic  Avig-maker 
and  hair-dresser  for  nothing.  I  have  dressed 
M.  Auber's  top-knot,  and  know  a  fine  voice  when 
I  hear  one. 

(Enter  Angenor.) 

Angenor.  Ah,  you  dress  the  hair  of  the  composer 
of  "  Fra  Diavolo,"  —  a  comrade  of  mine.  My 
congratulations,  young  man.  As  to  mademoi- 
selle, you  are  riglit.  She  would  make  her  for- 
tune on  the  stage. 

Pierre  (angrily) .     Why  do  you  interfere  ? 

Trecourt  (aside  to  Pierre).  Shall  I  sit  on  his 
head  ? 

Zeixe  (in  a  loic  voice).  Hsh!  He  is  a  government 
official. 

Pierre.  I  do  not  want  the  woman  I  love  to  be  an 
actress. 

Angenor  (aside).  So,  so!  A  lover!  (Aloud  to 
Pierre)  That  is  a  very  silly  idea;  but  many 
people  share  it.  You  are  wrong,  however,  to 
stani  in  the  way  of  such  a  voice. 

Fauvette.     You  are  perhaps  right,  sir,  but  I  am  not 
ambitious.     I  wish  to  remain  a  simple  work-girl 
and  aspire  no  higher  than  to  be  a  happy  wife. 
(Pierre  takes  her  hand.) 

Angenor  (disappointed).  Ah!  (Aside)  Foiled!  I 
hoped  to  have  in  her  a  pupil.  I  '11  soothe  my  dis- 
appointment by  writing  a  stinging  reply  to  that 
idiotic  Minister  of  Instruction.  (Exit  into 
tavern.) 

Trecourt.  "Well,  the  moment  is  near  at  hand  for 
drawing  lots  and  seeing  whose  luck  it  is  to  b3- 
come  asoldier.  I '11  go  and  say  a  word  to  papa 
Trecourt  and  return. 

Joseph.  And  meet  here  again  in  a  (luarter  of  an 
hour. 

Trecourt.    In  a  quarter  of  an  hour.    (Exit.) 

Zelie  (^0  Joseph,  pointing  to  Pierhe  and  Fauvette). 
They  want  to  bill  and  coo.     Come  ! 

Joseph.  No  !  You  want  to  tsase  ms  again.  I  '11  not 
be  bullied  before  marriage. 

Zelie.  Both  before  and  after.  Comol  (Pushes 
him  off  and  follows  him.) 

Pierre.  In  a  few  moments,  Fauvette,  onr  fate  Avill 
be  decided,  and  I  fear  th"  result.  Think  of  it,  I 
may  be  parted  from  you  for  seven  years. 

Fauvette.  And  then,  love  ?  Shall  I  not  Avait  for 
you  until  you  return  to  me  ? 

Pierre.  Seven  years  without  a  protector,  without  a 
defender, — surrounded  by  dangers. 

Fauvette  (smiling).     What  dangers  ? 

Pierre.  Even  now,  yonder  man  was  unable  to  con- 
ceal the  admiration  with  Avhich  you  inspired 
him. 


Fauvette.  He  discovered  that  I  had  a  pleasant 
voice ; — that  Avas  all. 

Pierre.  But  he  discovered  it  in  an  offensive  man- 
ner ;  he  chatted  to  you  about  the  stage  to  turn 
your  head — to  destroy  you.  He  has  evil  in  his 
heart  toward  you. 

Fauvette.  Nonsense,  he  is  a  fool.  (Gaily)  Why 
tliink  of  him  ?  Speak  rather  of  ourselves,  of 
our  marriage. 

Pierre  (sadly) .     Onr  marriage ! 

Faua^ette.  Why  not?  If  the  drawing  leaves  you 
still  free,  the  Avedding  is  to  take  place  in  a 
month.     Is  n't  it  understood? 

Pierre.     Ah,  dear  Fauvette ! 

Fauvette.     One  month,  and  then  the  orange-flowers, 
And  simple  robe,  all  snowy  Avhite, 
And  girls  in  pretty  garments  bright. 
Will  welcome  in  our  happy  hours. 

Pierre.      And  music  at  the  break  of  day 

Will  come  to  Avake  us  to  our  bliss ; 
And  friends  Avill  quickly  flock  this  way 
To  Avish  us  happiness,  and  kiss ! 

FXuvette  (imitating  old  woman's  voice) . 
"  Good  luck  and  joy  !  " 

Says  a  grandame  old  and  lowly. 
"  Good  luck  and  joy !  " 
While  fall  the  tear-drops  slowly. 
Pierre.      And  Aveeping  parents  sobbing  say, 

"  May  blessings  on  you  e'er  be  raining  !  " 

Fauvette.     And  the  neighbors,  joy  unfeigning. 
Will  say,  "  How  manly  is  the  groom  !  " 
Pierre.      ' '  How  sAveet  and  charming  is  the  bride ! " 
Both.         To  say,  they  also  can  presume  : 

"  Each  is  the  other's  bliss  and  pride. 
In  true  love's  way 
We  can  say, 

'  HoAV  happy  is  this  day  ! ' 
For  I  love  you  and  you  love  me, 
And  full  of  bliss  our  life  will  be. 
Love  Alls  my  soul  with  ecstasy, 
For  I  love  you  and  you  love  me." 
Fauvette  (acting  the  scene^. 

We  are  there,  before  the  Mayor. 
To  look  at  him  I  scarcely  dare. 

(Mimics  voice  and  manner.) 
"  Pierrs  Aubertin,  Avill  you  for  life 
Take  Mademoiselle  Fauvette  to  wife?  " 

Pierre  (energetically). 

And  I  reply, 
"  That  Avill  I !  " 
To  you,  says  he  : 

"  Ma'mselle  Fauvette,  do  you  accept 

This  man  your  lawful  spouse  to  be?  " 
Faua^e tte.   And  then  I  blush,  and  murmuring  ' '  Yes ! " 

And  then  the  priest,  us  both  addressing. 

Gives  us,  in  Latin,  this  sweet  blessing  : 

"  In  peace  and  love  go  hence !  " 

And  we  both  vow  obedience. 
Both.         In  true  love's  way 

We  can  say,  etc. 
Fauvette.     Then  come  the  dining 

And  the  wining. 

Music  playing  sweetly  between; 

You  king,  I  queen  : 

How  my  heart  Avith  joy  will  thrill 

When  we  dance  the  first  quadrille ! 
Pierre.      I  Avith  my  arm  about  your  waist,  like  this. 

Will  sing  and  dance  and  kiss. 

Ah  me !  Avhat  bliss !    ( They  dance.) 


8 


FAtrVETTE. 


Then  raidniglit  tolls,  and  all  is  o'er. 

And  then (Embraces  her.) 

FArrs'EtTE  (laughinf/  and  diseuffaf/ing  herself). 

Enough,  sir  !     Say  no  more. 
PiEKRK.       It  is  the  time,  ere  daylight  creep, 
For  all  to  homeward  trot, 
To  go  to  bed  and  sleep. 
Both.         In  true  love's  Avay, 

We  can  say,  etc. 
Pierre  (xoithjoy).     .4h!   Fanvette.   how  happy  we 
shall  be !    Yonr  trust  and  hope  have  restored  ray 
lightness  of  heart.     Yes,  I  believe  that  fate  will 
be  favorable  to  me.     ( The  roll  of  a  side  drum 
heard  in  the  distance.) 
Fauvette.     There  is  the   signal  for  the  drawing. 
Come,  and  I  will  fasten  your  ribbons  on  your 
hat.     (The  conscripts  appear  accompanied  hi/  their 
friends  and  girls,  with  Trecourt  as  drum-major, 
and  a  drummer  at  the  head.     Joseph,  Zelie  and 
POLYTE  also  enter.) 
Conscripts.     Keep  step,  and  mark  the  time, 
Keep  step,  the  soldiers'  rhyme  ; 

The  step  military. 
We  soon  shall  see  who'll  draw  a  lot,—  ' 
Some  soldiers  shall  be,  and  some  not. 
Come,  ye  conscripts  gay, 
Let  us  on  our  way! 
With  the  foe  to  cope, 
Be  our  fondest  hope. 
Each  true  Frenchman  knows. 
What  to  France  he  owes. 
And  dies  at  the  command 
Of  his  native  land. 
Joseph  (to  Zelie  rttt*^?  Fauvette).     Pierre  and  I  are 
to  draw  tirst.     We  AVill  return  and  tell  you  what 
luck  we  have  had.     Good-bye.     (Exit.) 
Zelie   (folloioing  him  with  her  eyes).     My  heart  is 
heavy  just  the  same.     Joseph  is  so  clumsy  in 
everything  he  does  that  I  fear  hi  will  be  awk- 
ward enough  to  take  a  wrong   num))i'r  just  to 
keep  up  his  reputation. 
Fauvette  (gazing  after  Pierre).     If  Pierre  should 
be  unlucky !     I  did  not  dare  to  let  him  see  how 
anxious  I  am. 
Zelie.     I  always  did  hate  a  lottery.     Poor  Joseph ! 
Fauvette.     Poor  Pierre ! 

Zelie.     I  am  so  sad!     And  I  am  so  hungry  too,  for 
I  have  not  yet  had  breakfast.     Come,  Fauvette. 
Let  us  eat  to  kill  time. 
Fauvette.     I  am  not  hungry. 

Zelie.     But  we    must  eat    something    to   give   us 
strength  to  bear  our  grief  in  case  Pierre  has  b^d 
luck. 
Fauvette.     Don't  even  hint  such  a  thing.     H  ;  will 
b?  so  wretched  away  from  me, —  particularly  as 
I  have  discovered  that  he  is  —  jealous. 
Zelie.     Jealous!     Of  you?     Ridiculous! 
Fauvette.     If  not  of  me,  then  of  that  man  who  told 

me  I  had  a  fine  voice. 
Zelie.     Tell  him,  then,  that  it  is  for  me  he  is  haunting 

this  spot.     That  will  soothe  him. 
Fauvette.     Ah!     Here  he  is  again.     (Pulling  7,v,lik 
toward  shop.) 

(Enter  Axgexor  ) 
Zelie.     Jealous  of  that!     Ha,  ha,  ha!      (ExAt  into 

shop.) 
Angenor.     My  letter  is  written.     Let  his  Excellency 
digest  it  at  his  leisure.     (Sees  Fauvette.)     .\h ! 
The  nightingale.     If  I  could  secure  her,  what  an 
answer  I  could  give  that  imbecile  of  a  Minister; 


—  howl  could  say  to  him:  "You're  another." 
(Approaches  Fauvette,  icho  is  arranging  flo^cers 
on  her  flower-stand.)  Ah,  mademoiselle,  if  you 
would  only 

FaxtvetTe  (startled) .     Oh !    How  you  frightened  me ! 

Angexor.  I  say  it  is  a  crime  to  let  such  a  treasure 
remain  concealed  in  a  garret. 

Fal^'ette.     Again ! 

AKgknor.  And  always!  Have  you  no  ambition? 
On  the  stage  you  would  be  feted,  applauded, 
showered  with  gold,  jewels,  canes,  snuff-boxes. 
I  say  so,  and  I  know,  for  I  have  received  them. 
Ah,  mademoiselle,  assist  me  to  give  a  lesson  to 
the  Minister  of  Instruction. 

Fauvette.     Are  you  mad? 

Angenor.  No,  I  am  a  genius.  The  Minister  will 
not  believe  it.  I  must  show  him  results.  Will 
you  paralyze  him  by  proving  him  an  ass? 

Fauvette  (aside).     He  is  surely  insane! 

AxGENOR.  I  am  rich.  I  can  make  your  fortune. 
You  are  pretty  ;  but  that  is  nothing,  though  it  is 
not  a  drawback.  You  are  honesl;,  and  that  is 
good,  for  my  method  includes  that.  Virtue  is 
the  throne  of  a  pure  voice ;  in  fact,  a  pure  voice 
can  sit  firmly  on  virtue.     Be  my  pupil? 

Fauvette.     Your  pupil? 

Angenor.  Yes,  for  three  years.  I  will  take  charge 
of  everything.  I  am  rich.  Afterward,  to  you, 
glory,  success,  and  wealth;  to  me —  (Points  to 
the  j)lace  for  a  decoration  in  his  buttonhole.) 

Fauvette.  You  are  very  kind,  I  'ra  sure :  but  I  have 
painted  another  future  for  myself.  In  a  month, 
I  shall  marry  the  man  of  my  heart. 

Angenor.  Marry!  Don't,  I  beg.  My  method  is 
opposed  to  marriage. 

Fauvette.  The  man  I  love  does  not  wish  me  to 
sing. 

.\NGENOR.  I  knew  it.  He  is  a  fool !  An  nnappre- 
ciative  Goth.  A  destroying  Vandal.  (Drum 
rolls  outside.) 

Fauvette.  They  return.  Oh,  leave  me,  sir,  I  en- 
treat ! 

.\NGENOR  (bowing  loic).  Mademoiselle,  j'our  most 
obedient,  despairing  servant.  But,  think  of 
what  I  have  said.  In  three  years,  fortune,  glory, 
snuff-boxes, —  I  mean  diamonds,  everything,— 
except  a  hu.sband.  (Exit  into  tavern.) 
(Enter  Pierre,  Joseph,  Trecourt,  Zelie  and 
Conscripts.) 

Zelie  and  F.utvette  (eagerly).     Well,  speak  I 

Joseph,  Pierre,  Trecourt. 

Ah !  luck  has  gone  against  us, 

.\nd  AVe  must  soldiers  be. 
We've  drawn  the  fatal  numbers, 
And  must  away, —  all  three. 

Zelie.     You,  Joseph? 

Fauvette.     You,  Pierre? 

Jo-SEPH.    Yes,  all  of  us,  ray  dear. 

Fauvette.     Farewell  to  all  our  dreaming  I 

Pierre.     To  all  our  happy  scheming! 

Zelie  (pouting).     To  wait  for  s"ven  years! 

Joseph.     'T  is  doubtless  long, —  and  wakes  ray  fears. 

Omn'es.     I  raust  conceal  my  sorrow! 

Trecourt.     Why  do  you  trouble  borrow? 
They  '11  r?turn,  so  have  no  fears. 

Joseph  (gloomily).     Yes,  return,  in  seven  years 

Trecourt.     So  laugh,  friMuh;  no  repining, 


FAtTVETTE. 


Your  hearts  let  no  grief  blight. 
Though  to-day  no  sun  is  shining, 
To-inorrow  will  be  bright. 
Fatjvette.     Trecourt  is  right :  —  so  banish  sorrow, 
And  fear  and  grieving  spurn. 
For  our  loved  ones  will  return 
All  loving  on  the  morrow. 
Joseph.      Two  thousand  francs  could  I  secure, 

A  substitute  I  Avonld  procure. 
Fauvette.     Yes,  it  would  buy  a  man  to  go 

And  tal^e  your  place  to  fight  the  foe. 
Trecourt.     Indeed!  Two  thousand  francs!  Ah  me! 
To  think  I  worth  so  much  can  be, 
I  'm  proud  1  'm  worth  so  large  a  fee. 
Omnes.       Ah,  let  us  banish  sorrow,  etc. 
Pierre  {with  a  sigh) .     Well, — we  are  soldiers ! 
Joseph.     But  I  object.    They  did  not  shake  the  bag. 

It  should  be  done  over  again. 
Zblie.     What  do  you  mean  ? 

Joseph  {pointing  to  the  No.  1  on  his  hat).     What  do 
I  mean?     My  name  is  x\brial.     Naturally    I  was 
alphabetically  compelled  to  draw  first.     I  drew 
No.  1. 
Zelie.     Buttsr-fingers  !     I  knew  it. 
Pierre  (pointing  to  hat).     And  I, — No.  7. 
Trecourt  (same).     And  I,  thirteen  to  the  dozen. 
Joseph  (to  Zklie).     And  will  you  wait  for  me  and 

be  true  to  me? 
Zelie.     Seven  years  of  constancy  !     I  am  afraid  it 

will  tax  my  patience  too  much. 
Trecourt.      Come,  come.      No    snivelling,   young 
people.     After  all,  what  is  seven  years  ?     They 
will  pass  quickly.     They  are  only  2,555  days. 
Joseph.     Excuse  me,  2,556. 
Trecourt.     Excuse  me,  2,555. 
Joseph.     And  leap-year, — 3h?     2,556  days. 
Trecourt.     Truj!     But  come;  we  must  set  a  good 

exam^)l;  to  ou'r  coraradas. 
Joseph.     Yes.     It  will  not  do,  to  appear  downcast. 
They  will  think  we  are  cowards.     Let  us  rejoin 
them.     I  Avant  to    be  cheered  up, — desperately. 
Come,  Pierre. 
Fauvette.     Joseph  is  right.     You  must  not  appear 

discouraged.     Go,  Pierre. 
Pierre.     What !  Do  you  wish  it  ? 
Fauvette.     I    have   but  one  word   to   say  to   you, 
dearest.     I  love  you,  and  I  will  never  love  but 
you. 
Pierre.     F.auvette,  dear  Fauvette!     You  restore  all 

my  courage.     Come,  at  once. 
JosEPK  (weeping) .     Yes,  come!      I  must  be  amused. 

(Exeunt  Joseph,  Pierre,  Trecourt.; 
Fauvette.   If  I  had  two  thousand  francs,  Pierre  need 

not  go.     Oh!  how  to  obtain  that  sum. 
(Enter  Angenor  from   tavern,    supporting  Cransac, 

loho  is  tipsg.) 
Angenor.     You   can    never   keep   on   horseback,    I 

repeat. 
Fauvette.     The  professor !     If  I  dared  ! 
Cransac  (thickhj).     H-H-orsh  back.     I'll  1-leap    on 

to  er  sh-sn-shaddle. 
Angenor  (aside).  I  was  wrong  to  give  him  that 
parting  drink.  He  '11  never  carry  that  letter 
safely. 
Fauvette  (a/)prortc7H)if/ Angenor).  Sir!  Sir!  (Tim 
idly)  I —  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  about  —  about 
your  proposal 


Angenor.  Ah !  you  have  changed  your  mind,  then. 
Good.  (Pushes  Cransac  toward  tavern.)  Go,  go, 
and  drink  all  you  want  at  my  expense.  (Exit 
Cransac  staggering.)  (The  noise  of  a  fall  and  of 
broken  glasses  heard.)  He  has  misplaced  the  soles 
of  his  feet.  (Aloud  to  Fauvette)  Mademoiselle, 
I  am  at  your  service. 

Favvette  (diffidently).  My  lover  has  drawn  an  un- 
lucky number. 

Angenor.  All  the  better— I  mean,  so  much  the 
worse. 

Fauvette.     I  do  not  wish  him  to  go. 

Angenor.     Naturally. 

Fauvette  (with  hesitation) .  You  are  rich.  Advance 
me  two  thousand  francs. 

Angenor  (jumps) .     What ! 

Fauvette  (shrinking) .  I  mean  two  thousand  francs* 
of  the  fortune  you  have  promised  me  if  I  follow 
your  advice. 

Angenor.     And  you  will  follow  it  ? 

Fauvette.     For  three  years,  as  you  have  asked. 

(Zelie  has  appeared  at  hack  and  heard  the  last  part  of 
this  conversation.) 

Zelie.     What  do  I  hear  ? 

Angenor  (overjoyed) .  You  accept !  At  last  I  shall 
give  Jack-in-offlce  a  l?sson. 

Fauvette  (anxiously) ,     Well,  sir  ? 

Angenor.     I  agree  but  on  one  condition. 

Fauvette  (alarmed).     And  that  is  ? 

Angenor      That  we  quit  Paris  to-day— this  hour. 

Fauvette.     This  hour? 

Angenor.  This  moment !  Women  and  waves  are 
changeable. 

Fauvette.     But  I  wish  to  explain  to  Pierre. 

Angenor.     You  can  write  to  him.     Avoid  the  emo- 
tion of  parting.     It  is  bad  for  the  voice. 

Fauvette  (sadly).  Perhaps— you  are  right.  If  I 
saw  him  again,  my  courage  might  fail  me.  And 
the  two  thousand  francs 

Angenor.  I  will  give  them  to  the  young  man 
mvsolf. 

Fauvette  (troubled).  You  will  give  them— yes! 
(Sighs)  It  will  be  better. 

Angenor.     And  now,  for  the  diligence. 

Zelie  (advancing).  And  what  is  to  be  done  with 
me  ? 

Fauvette.     Bo  you  wish  to  follow  me? 

Zelie.     I  '11  never  part  from  you. 

Angenor.  Bravo !  My  prima-donna  must  have  a 
companion, — an  attendant. 

Zelie.  A  waiting-maid,  you  mean.  I  '11  go  and  pack 
up. 

.\NGENOR.  Unnecessary.  I  will  take  charge  of 
everything. 

Fauvette.  Give  me  at  least  time  to  notify  my  em- 
ployer. 

\ngenor.  Of  course.  Go,  and  meet  me  at  tha 
coaching-oflSce.  We  will  take  fiight.  I  will  give 
a  few  orders  and  will  rejoin  you  there. 

Fauvette  (aside).  Pierre  will  not  be  a  soldier,  and 
in  three  years  I  shall  be  fr je,  and  we  shall  see 
each  other  again.  (Sound  of  drum  outside.  Ail 
three  go  up  and  look  off.) 

Angenor.     The  conscripts.     Come. 

Fauvette  (kissing  her  hand).     Au  revinr,  Pierre ! 

Zelie  (same) .     Au  revoir,  Joseph  ! 


10 


FAUVETTE. 
would  so  like  to  see  Pierre 


Fauvette  {tearfully) 

again. 

Angenor  {pushing  them  toioard  Fauvette's  shop). 
No !  Impossible  !  You  will  depart  by  the  rear 
door.  Do  not  let  them  see  you.  I  will  rejoin 
you  at  the  diligence.  (Pushes  them  into  shop.) 
At  last  I  have  a  pupil— by  sheer  strength.  (Exit 
into  tavern.) 
{Enter  Pierre,  Joseph,  Trecourt,  Conscripts  and 

their  friends,  etc.) 
Conscripts.  Come,  conscripts,  drink,  the  wine  pour 
down, 
'T  will  banish  care 
And  chase  despair, 
Make  brave  the  lieart,  and  sorrow  drown. 
And  cheer  the  soul  to  glory. 
Women.     We'll  think  of  you  both  night  and  day, 
The  seven  years  you  are  away. 
Go,  conscripts,  go,  your  valor  prove. 
And  we  for  you  will  keep  our  love. 
Conscripts.     Dear  one,  unto  me 

Will  you  faithful  be? 
WoMKN.      Yes,  unto  you 

We  will  be  true 
En.semIsle. 


(  Women  aside.) 
To   promise  this  we  are 

quite  free; 
When  they  are  gone,  then 

we  shall  see. 
Omnes 


(Men.) 
And  will  they  really  faith- 
ful be? 
When    we  are    gone   we 
then  shall  see. 
Come,  drink,  the  wine  pour  down,  etc. 


Pierre  (looking  about  for  Fauvette.) 
Fauvette,  I  do  not  see. 
Where  can  she  be  ? 
Why  is  she  straying  ? 
Perhaps  with  Zelie  she  is  praying. 
(Exit  into  Fauvette's  shop.) 
Joseph.     Come,  friends,  't  is  time  we  should  depart. 
Let  us,  at  least,  seem  bold  at  heart. 
If  choice  I  of  my  regiment  conhl  make, 
I  surely  know  which  one  I'd  take. 
I  'd  like  to  b3  a  voltigeur. 
A  grenadier  or  a  chasseur. 
At  them  the  girls  cast  glances  arch. 
Attention!     Forward!     March! 
The  grenadier  goes  stately  past. 

Plan,  plan  rat-a-plan ; 
The  voltig3ur,  somewhat  mor^  fast, 

Plan,  plan,  rat-a-plan ; 
The  chasseur,  though,  would  be  my  pick, 
For  he  goe.-j  at  the  double-quick, 

Rat-a-plan ! 
Omnks.       The  grenadier  goes  stately  oast,  etc. 
Joseph.      Lancer,  dragoon  and  cuirassii>r 

Scorn,  one  and  all,  th-^  thought  of  fear. 
Mounted  and  ranged  in  liattie  line, 
Say. —  do  th^y  not  look  tine? 
The  cuirassier  he  slowly  starts, 

Ta-ta-ta ; 
But  the  dragoon,  more  (jnick,  departs, 

Ta-ta-ta ; 
The  lancer,  though,  is  to  my  nii-id. 
For  he  leaves  all  th-  rest  b.'hiiul, 

Ta-ta-ta. 


Omnes.      The  cuirassier  he  slowly  starts,  etc. 
(Pierre  re-enters  from  shop,  disturbed.) 
Pierre.      I  've  sought  her,  high  and  low, 
Fauvette  is  nowhere  near  me, 
Ah !  I  begin  to  fear  me  ! 
My  heart  foretells  some  woe. 
Joseph.      And  has  my  Zelie  vanished  too? 
{Exit  into  shop.) 
(St.  Angenor  enters  from  tavern  and  advances  to 
Pierre.) 
St.  Angenor.     May  I  have  a  word  with  you? 
Two  thousand  francs  have  I, 
A  substitute  to  buy. 
Pierre  (astonished).     Monsieur! 
St.  Angenor.     From  Fauvette  does  it  come. 
Pierre.     Fauvette?     Where  got  she  such  a  sum? 
St.  Angenor      From  me.     Ere  we  leave  France, 

She  did  ask  it  in  advance. 
Pierre  (enraged).     You? 
St.  Angenor.     Yes,  her  charge  I  take. 
And  her  fortune  I  will  make. 
We  are  just  about  to  go. 
Pierre.      I  will  not  believe 't  is  so  ! 
St.  Angenor.     This  money  take,  I  pray. 
Pierre  (astounded). 

What!     And  can  Fauvette  betray? 
(Indignantly.) 
Ah,  then !  go,  and  say  to  her, 
Who  can  your  gold  to  me  prefer. 
That  I  've  torn  her  from  my  heart. 

(Returns  money  angrily.) 
To  seek  death  I  now  depart. 
Angenor  (smiles  satisfied.)    (Aside)   Now  for  Italy  ! 

(Enters  tavern  and  returns  presently,  ivith  porter 
bearing  his  luggage.) 

Pierre  (to  Joseph  and  Trecourt). 

Come,  we  three  to  fight  will  go. 
Joseph.   Yes.    (Aside)  My  fear  they  must  not  know. 
Pierre,  Joseph  and  Trecourt. 

Our  love  is  gone,  our  faith  is  lost. 

We'll  choose  the  corps  that  tights  the  most. 

Where'er  a  chance  to  face  the  foe, 

Ther  J  will  we  boldly  go  ! 

At  first  we  will  move  slowly  past. 

Omnks.       Rat-a-plan. 

Pierre,  Joseph  and  Trecourt. 

And  then  we'll  take  a  pace  more  fast. 

Omnes.       Rat-a-plan. 

Pierre.  Joseph  and  Trecourt. 

And  when  we  're  in  the  battle's  thick. 
We  'II  charge  the  foe  at  double-quick. 

( )MNES.       Rat-a-plan. 

r  Conscripts  loave  their  hats.  Pierre.  .Ioseph  and 
Trecourt  about  to  depart.  Spirited  action.  At 
hach\  St.  Angenor  is  seen  going  with  porter  bear- 
ing his  higgage.) 


PICTrUK 


.XI)  CURTAIN    DROPS. 


ACT     II 


Scene: — The  defile  of  Chareb,  in  Algiers.  The  edge 
of  an  oasis.  Jiorks,  palm-trees,  African  vegeta- 
tion. At  Back  :  Passes  and  ravines,  and  mountain 
paths.     L.  ^4  rock. 

.TosEPH,  Takata,  Uosette  and  soldiers  discovered. 

At  the  rising  of  the  curtain  the  Zouaves  are  grouped 
ahout  KosETTE,  icho  has  her  canteen  near  rock,  L. 
Tico  or  three  Zouaves  are  seated  on  their  knapsacks. 
Joseph  is  shaving  the  foremost  one.  He  carries 
his  trumpet  slung  across  his  shoulder. 

Chouus.     Come,  fill  our  glasses  to  the  brim. 

To  put  our  dust-dry  throats  iu  trim ! 
Come,  no  delay ; 
Pour,  pour  away. 
Other  Soldiers.     Shave,  shave  away ; 
Come,  no  delay ! 
And  barber,  make  us  all  look  prim. 
Our  faces  with  your  razor  trim. 
Joseph.      'T  is  done  !  You  're  shaved  now  one  and  all. 
And  so  you  can,  if  you  find  meet, 
Give  him  reward  by  standing  treat, 
Who.n  they  the  Zouaves'  hairdresser  call. 
Omnes.      'T  is  so  !  But  tell  us  one  and  all 

Why  you  the  Zouaves'  hairdresser  call? 
Joseph.     Why?     I'll  tell  you  ! 

A  week  I'd  been  here  very  jolly. 

When  I  found  that  my  comrades  bold, 
Were  plunged  into  melancholy. 

And  were  troubled  by  woe  untold. 
Of  one  I  demanded  the  reason, 
He  shoAved  me  his  beardless  chin. 
And  said  with  a  grin  :  '•  This  is  treason  ! 
I  'v?  no  beard  : — t'  is  a  sin ! 
With  no  beard  upon  his  fac3, 
A  man  is  surely  in  disgrace; 
Ah!  if  one  could  only  know 
How  to  make  it  grow  !  " 
To  me  came  a  thought  gigantic  : — 

A  barber  I  'd  b?  for  a  time. 
I  had  a  means  necromantic, 

By  which  I  to  wealth  could  climb. 
A  Zouave  without  beard  I  selected. 

My  plan  on  his  chin  1  tried, — 
Like  grass  on  a  spot  neglected, 

Grew  a  beard  in  its  pride. 
'T  was  not  long,  when  in  the  place. 
There  was  not  one  beardless  face ; 
Every  one  full  soon  did  know, 
How  to  make  it  grow. 

Omnes  Qaughing).     Bravo,  Joseph,  bravo! 

Tarata.     They  all  had  beards  then? 

Rosette.     But  how  did  you  do  it? 

Joseph.     A  theatre  trick.     I  blued  them  first. 

Omnes.     Blued  them  ? 

Joseph.  Rubbed  blue  on  their  chins  and  jaws  to 
imitate  a  grubby  beard  in  its  first  growth.  Th? 
blue-period  lasted  for  a  week.  I  th  'u  stuck  on 
a  little  down.  A  week  later  I  increas  ;d  it,  and 
by  degrees  changed  it  until  it  reached  full  pro- 


portions, like  this —  (  Takes  heard  from  mouth  of 
his  trumpet)  which  I  am  to  deliver  this  evening. 

Omnes.     Oh!     The  splendid  beard  ! 

Joseph.  I  believe  yon  !  Thanks  to  me,  half  of  th  ■ 
Zouaves  have  as  fine  specimens  in  their  knap- 
sacks. 

Omnes  (laughing).     Bravo! 

Voice  (outside).     Who  goes  there? 

Trecourt  (outside).     France! 

Voice.     Pass ! 

Joseph.  Ah,  it  i^  Trecourt.  (Enter  Trecourt  at- 
tired as  a  sergeant  of  Zouaves.)     Well? 

Trecourt.  Nothing  neAV.  We  have  searched  every- 
where without  finding  a  trace  of  a  Bedouin. 

Joseph  (going  up).  I  have  no  confidence  in  this 
unnatural  security.  With  these  Arabs,  one 
should  have  eyes  all  over  him,  and  then  he 
would  not  have  a  sufficient  number  of  optics. 
This  is  the  land  of  "Arabian  Nights"  and  the  very 
rocks  open  at  a  cabalistic  word. 

Trecourt.  Soldiering  has  not  made  you  less  of  a 
coward. 

Joseph.  I  confess  it.  I  am  a  coward.  At  the 
same  time,  I  have  followed  Pierre  because  he 
was  desperate, and  enlisted  in  the  Zouaves  because 
they  were  in  every  fight  and  in  every  danger. 
For  two  years  I  have  poltrooned  it  in  Africa  in 
ten  battles,  in  the  front  rank,  terrified  out  of  my 
life,  but  unAvilling  to  desert  my  friend  who  has 
a  perfect  mania  to  get  killed. 

Trecourt.  Yes,  and  who  has  Avon  a  lieutenant's 
epaulettes. 

Joseph.  I  have  Avon  nothing  but  an  increased  Aveak- 
ness  in  the  knees  Avhenever  I  hear  a  shot, — and 
I  'm  glad  of  it.  When  I  see  danger,  I  shut  my 
teeth  so  close  that  if  there  Avas  a  grain  of  wheat 
between  them,  it  would  become  the  finest  fionr. 
But  when  the  lieutenant  shouts  :  "  Charge!  "  it 
is  over.  I  no  longer  shiver.  I  see  him  advance 
and  I  advance,  sounding  the  charge  on  my 
trumpet.  He  rushes  at  the  Arabs  and  I  rush. 
I  am  only  frightened  before. — or  after. — but 
during  the  fight,  I  do  as  CA'erybody  else  does  in 
order  not  to  appear  singular.     (All  laugh.) 

Tar.ata.     Yon  're  a  queer  coAA-ard,  after  all. 

Trecourt.  By  the  Avay,  the  dream  of  ray  life  is 
realized.  I  am  drum-major  of  the  Zouaves. 
The  general  saw  me  at  a  rsview.  He  stopped 
and  admired  my  manly  proportions.  I  stood  up 
as  strai<rht  as  a  palm-tree.  "Sacrebleu  !  What  a 
fine  soldier,"says  he.  "Make  him  a  drum-major !" 
"Thanks, gt-neral!"  And  that  is  hoAV  it  happened. 
When  Ave  return  to  Paris,  what  afigur:"  I  shall 
cut!  (Struttin(f.)  And  the  girls  in  the  Rotunda 
of  the  Temple?  Oh!  How  they  will  stare. 
But  that  reminds  me.  Is  there  no  news  from 
home. — from  the  Temple?    No  Avord  from  Zelie? 

Joseph.  Bah,  the  little  traitress!  I  have  banish-d 
her,  not  only  from  ray  baart,  but  from  my 
memory.  (11) 


12 


FAUVETTE. 


Trecoukt.     But  you  were  going  to  marry  her. 

Joseph.  One  speaks  of  marriage  a->  one  does  of  a 
liouse  be  wisties  to  r^nt.  The  front  of  it  is 
attractive,  the  locality  is  good.  He  says:  "I 
shall  live  comfortably  here."  Well,  he  marries, 
goes  into  housekeeping, and  it  is  not  long  before 
he  finds  out  fanlts  in  constrnction.  and  naturally 
wants  to  change.  But  the  lease  is  signed,  and 
he  can't. 

Trecoukt.      Ah!      Has  Zelie,   then,  faults  in   con- 
strnction? 
Joseph    (resentfully}.      I   don't   know;  —  but    I   am 

morally  sure  that  she  went  off  wi*h  that  doiik.-y 

of  a  professor  who  carrijd  off  Fauvette. 
Trecoitrt.     And  does  no  one  knoAV  what  has  b-;com  > 

of  Fauvette? 
Joseph.      No!     In  the  first  place,  Pierra   do'^s   not 

longer  trouble  himself  about   lur,    aud    in    th  ■ 

next,  she — she  has  not  even  sent  him  a  letter, — 

in  two  years,  mind  you  ! 
Trecoxtrt.     It  is  very  strange.      But  Pierre  loved 

her  to  madness. 
Jo-seph.     Yes,  and  has  done  nothing  else  since  but 

try  to  meet  a  friendly  cannon-ball  on  its  way. 
Trecourt.     And  so,  he  thinks  no  more  of  her? 
Joseph.     Hm  ! — Sometimes,  as  I  do  of  Zelie  ;  but  no 

one  must  speak  of  her  to  him. 
Trecourt.     Ah!    The  lieutenant !     (The  soldiers  fall 

into  line  and  stand  in  ordf-r.) 

(Enter  Pierre. J 
(He  is  attired  as  a  lieutenant  of  Zouaves,  and  several 

soldiers  are  with  him.) 
Pierre.     I  have   explored  the  mountain   in    vain. 

Thsre  is  not  even  ths  tracs  of  an  Arab  camp. 

'Ih?re  is  nothing  to  fear,  comrades.     You  may 

return  to  our  advancs-posts. 

Joseph.     And  yon,  lieutenant? 

Pierrr.     I    shall    remain,    and    obey   th3   general's 

orders  to  make  a  last  reconnoissance 

3 O'^v.vii  (satisfied.)     Ah! 

Pierre.     With  you! 

iOriKVH  (loith  fear).     With  me?     All  alone? 

Pierre.     What  is  there  to  fear? 

Joseph.     Th  i  Arabs  are  so  tricky. 

Pierre.     Aud  then?     We  are  soldiers.     Duty  must 

b3  done. 

Pierre.      A  soldier  I, 

Pr^')ired  to  die 

Whene'er  my  country  calls  me. 
O  glorious  state, 
Mur^  glorious  fate. 

Whose  peril  quite  enthralls  me. 
Four  simple  woi-ds  the  text  supply 
By  which  we  all  may  live  and  die. 

And  these,  at  whjch  no  man  will  lag, 

Ar !  duty,  honor,  country,  flag. 
A  soldier's  state. 
That  is  my  fate, 

I  say  so,  boasting  loud  of  it. 
No  rank  more  grand  :  — 
'T  is  honor's  stand. 
Wh  Ml  we  fight  for  our  fatherland, 

We  may  be  proud  of  it. 
Omnes.       No  rank  more  grand,  etc. 

Pierre.      Each  stay  at  home. 
Who  fears  to  roam 

And  for  our  fate  deride  us, 
'T  were  better  far, 


To  be  where  we  are, 

Aud  to  fight  like  men  beside  us. 
Faint3st  hearts  with  courage  dance, 
'Neath  this  uniform  of  France, 
Prepared  to  die  at  command. 
For  honor,  fiag  and  native  land. 
A  soldier's  state,  etc. 
Joseph.     Then  we  do  not  go  Avitli  the  detachment? 
Pierre.     That  is  the  ord.-r  and  it  must  be  obeyed. 
(  7'o  soldiers)  As  for  you,  you  will  return  to  the 
camp.     (  To  Trrcourt)  Sergeant  Trecourt,  take 
command  of  the  detachment. 
Trecourt.    Yes,  lieutenant.   (To  soldiers)  Attention! 
Arm  on  the  right  shoulder.     File  right,  forward, 
march. 

(Music,  exeunt  soldiers.) 
Pierre.     Now  to  execute  the  orders  of  the  general. 

This  way ! 
Joseph  (glidinf/  toward  ravine).     Look  out   for  the 
ravine.     The  deuce  !    A  little  more,  and  it  would 
have  been  all  up, —  or  rather,  all  down! 
(Whilvthr  snhlirr^  are  dri>,n-ti  ,hj.  a  hloek  of  stone  in 

till'   rnrh-  n/iriis  i/llii'ffil.  itixl   \inW  Mw.KK  StepS  Softltf 

aftrrlhr  .s--»/(//rr.s  and  jihnits  the  ijreenfla;/  in  a  rock. 
Then,  a.'isisted  by  other  Arabs  who  enter,  he  dis- 
places a  huf/e  rock  ichich  opens  and  .shows  the  en- 
trance of  a  deep  grotto.  Arabs,  warriors,  slaves 
and  women  enter.) 

Chorus.     Allah,  O,  protect  us ! 
Of  our  trap,  the  foe 
Does  not  yet  suspect  us, — 

Let  him  not  know  ! 
In  a  song  of  praise 
Let  us  our  voices  raise 
Unto  Allah! 
"  Allah  is  great 
And  Mahomet  is  his  prophet." 

Ahmed  (appearing  at  entrance  of  grotto).  Well,  com- 
panions, our  plot  has  succeeded.  The  French 
have  not  even  suspected  our  presence.  Now 
prepare  the  encampment.  The  army  of  the  infi- 
dels must  remain  with  confidence  in  this  defile, 
—  and  then  we  shall  crush  them. 

Omnes  (with  an  Arab  cry).     Ahia ! ! 

Ahmed  (to  Ali)  .  Are  the  hundred  barrels  of  powder 
placed? 

Ali.  Yes,  master;  but  in  blowing  up  the  French- 
men, we  shall  destroy  ourselves. 

Ahmed.  No  !  The  mine  is  prepared  so  as  to  give 
us  time  to  fly,  even  after  the  match  is  lighted. 
But  some  devoted  men  must  sufler.  Bou  Malek 
has  my  instructions.     You  will  obey  him. 

Ali.     But  he  is  dumb.     How  can  he  tell  us? 

Ahmed.     It  will  suffice  for  yon  to  follow  him. 

Ali.     'Tis  said,  master. 

.\hmed  (to  an  Arab  )  Selim,  hasten  to  the  neiglibor- 
ing  oasis,  and  bring  hither  the  horses  already 
saddled  and  prepared  to  depart.  My  wives  and 
servants  will  precede  us  to  Mascara.  (Exit 
Selim.) 

Ali.     And  the  prisoners? 

Ahmed.  They  will  go  with  me, —  but  first,  bring 
them  hither.  (Aside)  I  would  see  the  fair  French- 
woman again. 

.\li.     Yes,  master.     (Exit  in  grotto.) 

Ahmed  (to  the  others)  Come  ! 

(Mnsic.  Exeunt  Omves.  Ali  appears  at  grotto  and 
ushers  in  St.  Angknor,  Fauvette  and  Zelie,  at- 
tired in  travelling-costume.) 


FAUVETTE. 


13 


All     This  way. 

Angenor.  Ah !  then  we  are  permitted  to  breathe  a 
little  fresh  air  at  last. 

Fauvette.     It  is  fortunate. 

Zklie.     Yes.     I  was  stifling. 

All     Wait  here.     The  master  will  come. 

Angenor.  These  Arabs  are  by  no  means  ceremoni- 
ous. 

Fauvette.  We  must  see  the  chief,  and  speak  to 
him. 

Zelie.  What !  that  statue  from  whom  you  must 
positively  drag  words? 

Fauvette.  Yes,  it  is  true.  When  we  were  cap- 
tured and  taken  before  him  he  looked  at  us  for 
a  long  time  Avithout  speaking. 

Zelie.     At  you,  particularly. 

Fauvette.  And  with  a  glance  that  made  m.' 
shudder. 

Zelie.     He  has  the  evil  eye. 

Angenor.  He  has  two !  He  made  a  gesture,  and 
such  a  gesture, —  like  that, —  and  they  pushed  us 
into  this  hole  that  is  full  of  barr.ils  ( To  Alt) 
By  the  way,  I  thought  that  Mussulmans  never 
drink  wine. 

Ali  (coldly).     It  is  not  wine,  but  gunpowder. 

Angenor  (terrified).  What!  And  your  Arab  chief 
confined  us  in  his  powder-magazine  !  But  he  is 
a  savage,  and  knows  no  better.  Will  you  be 
kind  enough  to  inform  him  that  I  do  not  wish  to 
lodge  there  again?     It  is  not  good  for  the  voice. 

All     He  will  be  here  presently.     You  can  tell  him 

yourself.     (Exit.) 
.Angenor.     Thanks!    You're  very  kind.     Ah,   Avhy 
did  we  leave  Italy?     Beautiful  Italy!     It  is  true 
that  it  also  has  mountains,   and  bandits,  but  I 
like  it  better  than  this.  Why  did  we  leave  it? 

Fauvette.  I  had  a  very  serious  reason  for  coming 
here. 

Angenor.  And  I,  fool  that  I  was,  thought  you 
wanted  only  to  see  and  admire  the  scenery. 
There  is  too  much  of  it. 

Zelie.     And  too  many  rocks. 

Angenor  (fanning  himself ).     And  too  much  sun. 

Fauvette.  It  was  not  for  these.  Do  you  recall  the 
young  man  whom  I  wished  to  save  from  the 
drawing,  two  years  ago? 

Angenor.  Your  betrothed?  He  refused  the  two 
thousand  francs  I  oft'ered  him  on  your  part.  I 
told  you  so. 

Zelie.     You  did  —  three  months  later. 

Fauvette.     When  we  were  in  Italy. 

Angenor.  If  I  had  told  you  sooner,  you  would  have 
refused  to  go,  —  you  would  not  have  been  a 
great  artist. 

Fauvette.  I  have  forgiven  you.  You  meant  well. 
However,  two  months  after  that  I  learned  that 
Pierre  was  with  the  Zouaves  in  Africa. 

Angenor.  Ah,  I  see  it  all,  now.  And  it  was  for 
this  that  you  wanted  to  admire  the  scenery. 
And  I  brought  you  hither.  I  wonder  that  my 
ears  have  not  grown  longer.     Ass  that  I  am ! 

Fauvette.  Yesterday  I  learned  that  Pierre  was  a 
lieutenant  and  was  reconnoitering  in  these 
mountain-passes. 

Angenor.  And  as  soon  as  the  concert  was  over,  you 
wanted  to  visit  these  wild  rocks  to  see  Pierre 
again.     Quadruple  ass  that  I  am  ! 


Fauvette.  I  wished  to  ask  him  why  he  had  not 
answered  my  letters. 

Angenor.  There  was  no  need  to  come  to  Africa 
for  that.     I  could  have  told  you. 

Fauvette.     You? 

Angenor.  Yes !  He  did  not  answer  your  letters 
because  he  had  not  received  them.  They  were 
intercepted  by  me. 

Zelie.     By  you!    I  suspected  as  much. 

Fauvette.     You  had  no  right  to  do  so. 

Angenor.  It  was  in  the  interests  of  art.  It  was  a 
part  of  my  vocal  method.  Love-letters  are  very 
bad  for  the  voice.  They  are  full  of  burning 
words  that  disturb  the  mind  and  make  the  heart 
beat  faster,  and  then  the  larynx  becomes  dry, 
the  vocal  cords  relaxed,  and  the  diaphragm  rigid. 
Farewell,  then,  to  proper  tone-production,  to 
sostenuto  singing!  When  a  singer  is  in  love,  she 
quivers,  and  is  tremolo  all  over.  To  save  you 
from  tremoloing  I  suppressed  the  letters,  but  I 
did  not  read  them.  They  would  have  been  bad 
for  my  voice.     I  will  return  them  to  you. 

Fauvette.     And  accused  him  of  forgetting  me  ! 

Angenor.     Then  you  love  him  still? 

Fauvette.     I  shall  always  love  him. 

Angenor.  How  strange !  You  love  him  and  you 
have  no  tremolo  in  your  voice.  Ah,  my  method 
has  done  that. 

kiA  {reappearing) .     The  chief!     {All  start.) 

Angenor.  The  chief !  Now  to  give  him  a  piece  of 
my  mind. 

XnyiKD  (appears.     G^ase.s  a«  Fauvette.)     'T  is  she. 

Angenor  (going  to  him).  My  dear  sir,  I  wish  to  see 
you  in  order  to  observe 

Ahmed  (repelling  him  with  gesture.)     Not  you! 

Zelie.     Perhaps  then  'tis  me,  Mr.  Bedouin. 

Ahmed.     No. 

Angenor.  How  curiously  this  happens !  You  don't 
want  to  see  us  after  all.  Very  well,  we  have 
admired  the  scenery  as  much  as  we  desire,  and 
we  '11  depart. 

Ahmed.     No. 

Angenor.  What  do  you  mean  by  "no"?  You 
have  no  right  to  detain  us.  We  are  not  soldiers  ; 
that  is  clear  to  the  dullest  understanding, —  the 
ladies,  above  all.  Where  can  be  found  in  this 
miserable  country  a  police-inspector  or  a  justice 
of  the  peace?  I  believe  they  call  him  a  myth; 
where  can  I  find  a  myth? 

Ahmed.     Enough,  fool! 

Angenor.      Fool !  Excuse  me.     I  am  a  great  tenor. 

Ahmed.  Not  you,  I  say!  (To  Fauvette)  It  is  you 
that  I  would  hear.     (  To  the  others)  Leave  us. 

Angenor  (pointing  to  Fauvette).  Pardon  me,  but  I 
cannot  leave  her. 

Ahmed.     Are  you  her  father? 

Angenor  (stammering).     Her   father?     No.     I  am 

her  daughter I  mean  she  is  my  father, 

No,  that  is  to  say,  I  am  her  master. 

Ahmed.  Her  master?  (To  Fauvette.)  Are  you 
then  his  slave? 

Fauvette.     I  am  his  pupil. 

Ahmed  (puzzled).     His  pupil? 

Angenor.  How  stupid  these  savages  are!  I  am 
her  professor.  (Sings.)  Tra-la-la!  (To  Zelie 
and  Fauvette)  He  does  not  understand.      (To 


14 


FAUVETTE. 


Ahmed.)  I  am  — Tra-la-la,  do  you  see?  (Sings.) 
La-le-li-lo-lu !  to  her.  Do-re-riii-fa!  music!  (Im- 
itates birds.)  Cui-cui-cui-trrrrr!  (In  the  fervor 
of  his  explanation  he  ends  by  yelping  like  ayoung 
puppy  in  pain.) 

Ahmed  (to  Fauvette.)  You  are  a  singer.  I  under- 
stand.    And  he;  is  a  professor  of  the  art. 

Angenor.     At  last ! 

Ahmed  (calling).  BouMalek!  (JS'weer  Bou  Malek 
from  grotto.)  This  man  is  a  great  teacher  of 
singing. 

Angenor  (aside.)  He  is  going  to  present  me  with  a 
snuff-box. 

Ahmed  (to  Bou  Malek.)  He  shall  teach  the  wives 
in  my  harem  how  to  sing. 

Angenor.     AVhat! 

Zelie.  He  is  going  to  found  an  Arab  singing- 
school. 

Angenor.     But Permit  me  to 

Ah.med.  Obey,  or  I  shall  send  your  hi^ad  to  your 
French  friends. 

Angenor.  My  head  without  me!  That  would  be 
bad  for  niy  voice.  (To  Fauvette  )  But  to 
leave  you  alone  with  this  brute 

Fauvette  (To  Angenor.)  I  remember  the  fable  of 
the  lion  in  love,  and  am  not  afraid. 

Ahmed  (to  Zei.ie.)     Go  with  the  professor. 

Zelie.  I  cannot  resist.  (Aside)  Let  me  see  if  I 
can't  set  fire  to  this  tinder  also.  (To  Bou 
Malek)  And  are  you  the  guardian  of  his  wives? 
(Bou  Malek  evades  her.) 

Atimed.     H  •  will  not  reply.     He  is  dumb. 

Zelie.     B-ar! 

Ahmed.     Go  !  At  once. 

Angenor.  Come.  I  will  teach  his  harem  to  sing 
in   a  way  that  will  make  his   life   miserable. 

(Bou  Malek  makes  a  gesture,  and  Zelie  and 
Ange.nor  exeunt  hastily  with  fear,  followed  by 
Bou  Malek.) 

Ahmed.     At  last  we  are  alone. 

Fauvette  (naively.)  I  know  what  you  are  about  to 
say.    You  love  me. 

Ahmed.     I  do. 

Fauvette  (coquettishly).  But  you  have  scarcely 
seen  me,  scarcely  spoken  to  me.  You  do  not 
even  know  if  my  heart  be  free. 

Ahmed.     I  do  not  wi.sh  to  know. 

Ahmed.      Tlie  soldier  chieftain  of  my  tribe, 
I  've  been  from  childhood's  hour. 
Warfare  was  my  only  pride. 

To  it  I  gave  my  life  as  dower. 
I  livt^-d  but  for  the  bitter  fray. 
Strife  was  to  me  enchanting, 
And  my  heart  alone  was  panting 
For  revenge  that  there  held  sway. 

You  on  my  life  have  chanced  to  dawn. 
And  in  my  heart  is  love  now  born. 
Life  all  seems  new 
When  near  to  you ; 
And  all  my  soul 
You  now  control. 
With  love  I  burn  : 
That  love  return. 
Beauty  never  moved  my  heart, 

Women  ne'er  for  me  had  charms ; 
All  that  of  my  life  made  part 

Were  my  horse,  my  trusty  arms. 
Love  ne'er  warmed  this  hf^art  of  ice. 
More  I  craved  the  muskets'  rattle, 


Yearned  more  for  the  roar  of  battle, 
Than  all  the  joys  of  paradise. 

But  on  my  life  you  chance  to  dawn, 
And  in  my  heart  is  love  now  born,  etc. 

Fauvette.  You  love  me.  So  be  it.  But  we  are 
not  of  the  same  race.  We  have  not  the  same 
beliefs.     What  would  you  do  with  me? 

Ahmed.     Make  you  the  queen  of  my  tribe. 

Fauvette.  It  is  a  great  honor,  but  I  do  not  aspire 
so  high.     Besides,  I  love  another. 

Ahmed.     Another? 

Fauvette.     And  I  have  come  hither  to  rejoin  him. 

Ah.med.     Is  he  a  soldier? 

Fauvette.     He  is. 

Ahmed.     Well,  then,  you  will  never  see  him  again. 

Fauvette.  Never!  That  is  a  word  they  do  not 
understand  in  my  country. 

Ali  (enters).  Master!  A  trumpeter,  preceding  an 
officer,  comes  under  a  flag  of  truce. 

Ahmed.  Frenchmen  !  Ali,  place  this  woman  among 
the  wives  of  my  tribe. 

Fauvette.     A  Frencli  officer !     If  I  could  s?e  him, 
speak  to  him, —  we  might  be  saved.     (Exit  icith 
Ali.) 
(Enter  Bou  Malek,  Arabs,  Pierre  and  Joseph.) 

Joseph  (with  a  handkerchief  at  the  end  of  his  gun). 
Why,  here  we  are.  back  again.  Good-day.  Arabs. 
In  rinding  one  safe  road  I  have  nearly  broken 
my  neck  ten  times. 

Ahmed.     What  do  you  want? 

Joseph.     My  lieutenant  will  tell  you. 

Pierre  (looking  aboiit) .  This  grotto What  does 

it  mean? 

Ahmed.     Speak. 

Pierre.  Here  are  the  instructions  of  ray  general. 
(Reads)  "  I  learn  that  a  Frenchwoman,  a  great 
artist,  called  Frasquita,  who  gave  a  concert  yes- 
terday before  the  division,  has  been  arrested 
with  her  manager  and  servant  by  the  Arabs,  in 
the  defiles  that  you  are  reconnoitering.  On  re- 
ceipt of  this  order,  discover  the  retreat  of  these 
Arabs  and  propose  an  exchange  of  prisoners." 

Ahmed.     We  have  made  no  prisoners. 

Joseph  (aside).     Delightful  oriental  liar ! 

Pierre.  Those  that  I  come  to  reclaim,  and  that  it 
is  presumed  have  fallen  into  your  hands,  are 
not  soldiers,  and  should  be  set  free. 

Joseph.  There  are  two  women,  it  seems,  and  the 
sex  is  so  rare  in  this  country  that  housekeeping 
is  unknown. 

Ahmed.     Do  you  know  these  women? 

Pierre.  No  !  My  officer  has  charged  me  to  propose 
an  exchange  for  these  two  women  and  their  com- 
panion, whatever  number  of  Arab  prisoners  you 
may  be  pleased  to  claim.     I  await  your  answer. 

Ahmed.     I  refuse  the  exchange. 

Pierre.  In  that  case  hear  the  ultimatum  of  my  gen- 
eral. If,  in  an  hour,  you  have  not  obeyed  his 
orders 

Ahmed  (starting).     His  orders?— the  orders  of  an 

infidel  dog?  —  I? By   Mahomet,    you   will 

await  mine ! 

Pierre.     I  am  under  a  flag  of  truce. 

Joseph.     Which  is  sacred, — (aside)  at  least  I  hope  so. 

Ahmed.  Our  camp  is  well  defended.  If  you  at- 
tempt to  escape  you  will  be  fired  at.  (Makes 
n  sign  to  the  Arabs  to  go.) 


FAUVETTE. 


15 


Pierre.     We  shall  not  attempt  to  fly.     The  laws  of 
war    protect    us.      (Ahmed    and  Arabs    going. 
.losEPH  follows  them.) 
Joseph  (boldly).     If  you  touch  a  hair  of  our  heads, 

you   will   all   be  fricasseed {an   Arab   tnrns, 

Joseph  recoils  terrified) — fr-fr-fricasseed. 
(Ahmed  and  Arabs  exeunt.) 
Joseph.     Well !     This  settles  it ! 
Pierre.     We  have  nothing  to  fear. 
Joseph.     I  'm  not  so  sure  of  that.      In  fact,  I  'm 

jellied  with  fear  already. 
Pierre.     Bah  !     This  savage  will  think  twice. 
Joseph.     Perhaps ;  but  I  have  a  presentiment  of  the 
road  I  am  to  travel.     We  must  §:et  away  from 
here.     We  are  left  alone,  let  us  profit  by  it  to 
look  about.     Where  does  this  cave  go  to?     I  '11 
see. 
Pierre  (smiling).     Yes,  but  don't  go  too  far. 
Joseph  (disappearing  in  grotto).     All  right,  lieuten- 
ant.    The  devil !     How  dark  it  is !     If  there  is 
any  danger,  call  me ;  that  is  to  say,  I  '11  call  you. 
Pierre  (near  grotto).     Poor  Joseph.     He  is  uneasy 
in  his  mind.     I  know  these  Arabs  care  little  for 
the   usages   of   war;    but   they   know  that   our 
deaths  Avonld  be  fearfully  avenged.     (He  peers 
into  grotto.) 

(Enter  Fauvette.) 
Fauvette.'T  is  here  this  officer  should  be. 

If  him  a  moment  I  could  see. 
Pierre  (.'speaks  off,  to  Joseph). 

Be  prudent,   Joseph, —  else  will  the  foe  perceive 
you. 
Fauvette. That  voice !  Pierre? 
Pierre.       Fauvette? 
Fauvette.'T  is  I. 
Pierre.       You ! 
Fauvette. Dearest  love ! 

Ah!  joy  supreme! 
Yes !  t'  is  a  dream  ! 
Shall  I  awake  and  find  it  you? 
No!  'tis  a  dream, 
A  cruel  dream ! 

Or  is  it  Pierre,  my  lover  true? 
Pierre.      Can  you  be  here? 
I'  m  mad,  1  fear! 

Oh,  speak,  and  say  't  is  really  you  ! 
Fauvette. Hope  my  bosom  cheers. 
Farewell  to  tears ! 
Love  from  its  grave  reappears. 
Pierre.      False  hope  my  bosom  cheers ; 
Fate  at  me  jeers; 

Love  from  its  grave  ne'er  reappears. 
Fauvette. Yes,  't  is  you,  Fauvette  so  dear. 
Pierre.      What!  among  these  Arabs  cursed? 
Fauvette. Yes ;  a  captive  I  am  here. 
But  no  longer  do  I  fear. 
For,  through  the  gloom,  the  snn  has  burst. 
Pierre.      You,  a  captive?  Then  you  are 

She  whom  they  call  Frasquita! 
Fauvette. Yes,  't  is  I,  Pierre. 
Pierre.      You,  a  singer ! 
Fauvette. Ay,  but  hear : 

You  love  me,  and  your  love  I  treasure, — 

My  love  for  you  I  cannot  measure ; 

That  love  I  bless. 

'T  is  happiness ! 

Sorrow  is  past, 

Joy  now  will  last. 

Peace  in  my  heart  will  forever  reign. 


Oh,  bliss  complete ! 
Once  more  we  meet ; 
Nothing  shall  part  us  e'er  again. 
Both.        Sorrow  is  past,  etc. 
Pierre.      I  love  you,  I  adore  you  : 

And  thus  't  will  never  cease  to  be. 
Fauvette.     Once  more  I  stand  before  you  : 

Earth  is  a  paradise  to  me. 
Both.         Sorrow  is  past,  etc. 
( They  embrace.     Enter  Ahmed,    who  starts  on  seeing 

them.) 
Ahmed  (to  Fauvette).     You  in  his  arms!  Then  it  is 

he  you  love.     (  Threatens.) 
Pierre  (facing  Ahmed).     Take  care. 
Fauvette  (in  despair).     Lost! 
Ahmed    (calling   to   his  men).     This   way!     (Arabs 

appear.)     Take  hence  this  infldel  dog. 
Pierre.     I  am  under  a  flag  of  truce. 
Ahmed.     Drag  him  hence.     (  Two  seize  Pierre.) 
.lo^KPH  (appearing  at  grotto).    The  deuce!     The  lieu- 
tenant in  danger. 
Fauvette.     Pierre!  Pierre! 
Pierre.     Courage,  Fanvette,  courage  !     ( Two  Arabs 

drag  him  off.) 
Joseph   (in  grotto).     Fauvette!  Am  I  awake? 
Fauvette  (to  Ahmed).    One  word. 
Ahmed  (to  Ali)  .     Go !    This  woman  belongs  to  ray 

tribe.     Execute  my  orders. 
Fauvette  (as  she  is  led  off  by  Ali).     How  to  save 

him  !     How  to  save  him  ! 
Joseph  (trembling  in  grotto) .     We  must  see  —  they 

must  be  saved. 
Ahmed  (looking  about).     The  trumpeter  has  doubt- 
less escaped.   He  will  warn  the  French.  They  will 

hasten  hither,    and  then (  With  fierce  joy) 

In  that  grotto  are  one  hundred  barrels  of  powder 
to  welcome  them  with  a  salute. 
Arabs  (.shouting).     Ahia!  Ahia! 
Joseph  (m  horror).  One  hundred!  Oh  (Disappears.) 
Ahmed  (on  the  ravine,  threateningly).      Come,  come! 
I  await  you.  Frenchmen. 
At  last,  friends,  the  hour  is  at  hand. 
The  foe  to  drive  forth  from  the  land. 
'T  is  war  to  the  latest  breath  — 
"Down  with  the  foe!     To  the  infldel, 
death ! " 
Omnes.      Down  with  the  foe!  To  the  infidel,  death! 
Ahmed.     In  the  name  of  the  Prophet  on  high  : 

From  the  hearts  of  our  people  daring. 
Vengeance  cries  loud  and  despairing — 
"  'Gainst  the  foes  who  our  power  defy! 
Rise,  'gainst  the  tyrant  who  would  us 

enslave. 
His  might  destroy,  or  find  a  warrior's 
grave !  " 
Islam's  bold  sons  no  foeman  fearing ! 
See!  on  our  tents,  against  the  sky, 
Mahomet's  standard  proud  doth  fly ! 
Allah  wills !  onr  day  of  joy  is  nearing. 
Omnes.       Islam's  bold  sons,  etc. 
Ahmed.      Warriors  true,  we  will  conquer  or  die, 
As  victors  gain  the  palm  of  glory. 
Heroes  become  in  song  and  story : 
'T  is  promised  us  from  on  high. 
If  't  is  onr  fate  in  death  to  close  our  eyes, 
To  bliss  eternal  we  shall  rise, 
In  Paradise! 
Islam's  bold  sons,  etc. 


16 


FAUVETTE. 


Ahmed.  Six  of  you  -will  remain  to  set  fire  to  the 
powder.  {Six  Arabs  set  tlipir  (tuns  against  the 
grotto.)     Ali,  ars  ths  horses  saddled  ? 

All     They  are.  master. 

Ahmkd.  I  will  see  for  myself.  Bou  Malek  shall 
watch  here.     (Bou   Malek  sits  near  the  grotto.) 

So!  (To  the  other  Arabs  remaining  by  grotto.) 
Come,  and  hear  my  last  orders.  (Exeunt  all  hut 
Bou  Malek  and  Joseph.) 

(Music.    Joseph  appears  at  the  entrance  of  the  grotto. ~\ 
He  sees  Bou  Malek.) 

Josioi'H.  Oh!  the  chimpanzees  have  forgotten  one 
of  th"ir  brothers.  \^Levels  gun  at  him.)  No! 
the  Hois'?  will  betray  me.  Ah !  it  is  the  dumb 
fellow  of  whom  they  spoke,  no  doubt.  Dumb  ! 
An  id"a !  He  cannot  call  for  assistance.  I  must 
have  his  bnrnons.  But  how  ? — He  is  prayinaf. 
All  th'?  b-^tter.  He  is  all  the  more  prepared  to 
jro  and  meet  his  friend  Mahomet  — No !  he  is 
sleeping.  Better  still.  Here  sroes.  (Steals  toioard 
Bou  Malek,  leaps  on  him  with  a  shout,  and  pushes 
hitn  into  the  ravine.)  Ah  !  that  is  over !  A  pleas- 
"•'t  ionrney,  and  manv  kind  remembranc'^*^  to 
Mahomet!  (liises)  Oh,  how  I  tremble !  What 
a  cow  ird  I  am !  I  have  th3  burnous  ;  I  will  put 
it  on,  gain  our  lines,  and  return  for  the  lieu- 
t'inant.  Hallo!  I've  forgottMi  my  trumpet.  It 
gives  me  a  hunchback.  Never  mind.  This  is 
the  land  of  dromedaries.  (Stops.)  The  deuce! 
I  have  no  b-^ard,  and  this  dumb  fellow  had  a 
noble  one.  I  shall  be  discovered.  What  a  fool 
I  am  !  (  Takes  beard  from  trumpet  and  puts  it  on.) 
Now  I  am  complete.  A  perfect  Arab!  I  go 
without  any  compunctions.  Ah!  a  woman! — 
An  Arab  woman,  too.  I  must  not  be  seen. 
(Enter  Zelie  in  Arab  costume.) 

Zelie.  Thev  have  dressed  both  Fauvette  and  me  in 
this  bad-fttting  costume.  M.  Augenor  has  dis- 
app^arnl.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  rind  some  Avay  to 
escape!     But  how? 

Joseph.     Is  she  going  to  stay  here  forever  ? 

7.VAAV.  (seeing  him) .  Oh,  the  dumb  man!  He  is  all 
powerful  here.  If  I  could,  with  a  little  flatter- 
ing, coax  him  to  let  us  escape!  He  cannot  speak 
though,  and  therefore  is  not  able  to  sav  whnt  he 
will  do.  I '11  try.  (Approaches  ^o»v.vn.)  Well, 
poor,  dumb  fellow !     How  sorry  I  am  for  you  ! 

Joseph  (aside).     It  is  true;— I'm  dumb. 

Zelie.     Are  you  always  going  to  be  distant  with  me? 

Joseph  (aside).  It's  the  other  fellow's  ladj'-love,  I 
suppos-^-.  —  and  he  is  dead  ! 

Zelie.     I  don't  think  I'm  ugly. 

Joseph  (aside).  If  I  am  the  other  fellow.  I  suppose  I 
must  take  all  the  other  fellow  has  left  behind. 
(Makes  gestures  of  admiration  and  kisses  her 
hand.) 

Zelie.  Ah.  T  am  humanizing  him.  ( IT7///  fervor) 
I  love  Africa, — a  land  of  fire  ;  I  love  the  .\rabs, — 
men  of  tire;  for  I  also  have  a  spirit  of  rire. 

Joseph  (aside).  I  believe  her.  She  is  a  perfect  fur- 
nace.    (  Takes  her  by  the  waist.)     H6,  h6  ! 

Zelie.  Ah !  he  is  falling  into  the  snare.  I  shall  yet 
make  an  ally  of  him. 

You're  of  a  race  that's  not  amiss, — 
A  race,  they  say,  both  strong  and  glad. 

Joseph.  Ah,  ah,  ah,  ah! 

Zelie.         And  it  is  true,  when  one  does  kiss, 
A  strong  man  is  by  no  means  bad. 

Joseph.  Eh,  eh,  eh,  eh ! 


Zelie.        Your  Koran  says,  it  is  not  right 

To  love  one  not  your  faith  or  kin. 
Joseph.  Oh,  oh,  oh,  oh! 

Zelie.         But  of  her  foot  to  gain  a  sight. 

Or  press  her  hand,  cannot  be  sin. 
•Joseph.  Hi,  hi,  hi,  hi! 

(Aside)    She  is  attempting  me  to  charm  : 

Well,  if  she  be,   where  is  the  harm? 
i  Zelie  (aside).     I  can  seem  free,  love  to  bestow; 
'T  is  easy  after,  to  say  No. 
(Ensemble.) 
Zelie.         Mussulman,  pray  gaze  your  fill, 
I  care  no  jot; 
All  I  ask  is,  that  you  will 
Touch  me  not. 

Joseph  (aside).     If  I  longer  look,  I  will 

I  know  not  what. 
It  grows  hard,  and  harder  still 
To  touch  her  not. 
Zelie.         I  with  you  would  gladly  fly 
From  this  spot ; 
But  with  my  request  comply, 
And  touch  me  not. 
Joseph  (aside),     l  were  wise  if  I  did  fly 
From  this  spot. 
By  the  glances  of  her  eye 
I'  m  surely  shot. 
Zelie.        When  one  a  service  does,  I  know 

He  looks  for  some  reward  to  gain. 
Joseph.  He,  he,  he,  he ! 

Zelie.        Hence  let  us  on  the  instant  go. 

And  I'll  your  debtor  not  remain. 
Joseph.  Eh,  eh,  eh,  eh  ! 

Zelie.        In  time,  you  '11  win  mv  love,  no  doubt; 

E'en  now  I  feel  I  'm  drawn  to  you. 
Joseph.  Hi,  hi,  hi,  hi ! 

Zelie.        But  you  must  nid  to  carry  out 

A  little  plan  I  have  in  view. 
Joseph.  Oh,  oh,  oh,  oh  ! 

She  is  attempting  me  to  charm,  etc. 
Joseph    (aside).      She   is  mine.     I   have   captured, 
magnetized   her,  and   she  will  show  me  how  to 
escape. 
Zelie  (aside).     I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  let  the  ugly 
brute  kiss  and  adore  me.  in  order  to  trick  him 
into  letting  me  escape.     But  first  to  tell  the  pro- 
fessor that  I  have  found  an  ally. 
Joseph  (passionately).     Oh,  oh! 

Zelie  (the  same).     Ah,  ah!     Wait  for  m'^  h^re.     I  '11 
return.     (Going  and  then  returning.)   Now,  don't 
go  far!     Stay  here.     (Exit.) 
Joseph  (collapsing).     What  I  have  had  to  endure! 
But  she'll  return  and  show  me  the  rond  to  safety, 
and  then   I  '11  give  her  the   slip.     What  dread- 
fully  bold    creatures  these    Arab   women  are! 
(Looks  off.)    Another  Arab!    Not  a  word.    (Sits 
cross-legged,  imitating  Bou  Malek.) 
(Enter  St.  Angenor  attired  in  grotesgue  Arab 
costume.) 
AxoENoit.     I  am   in  despair.      I  cannot  find  Zelie, 
and  Fauvett'^  is  disconsolate.     It  is  verv  had  for 
the  voice.      But   I  have  mad-^  a  resolution.      I 
have  promised  h-'r  that  I  will  trv  to  reach  the 
French  camp  and  bring  the  soldiers  to  the  res- 
cue. 

Joseph.     Will  the  idiot  never  go? 
Angenok.     But  how  to  escape  observation?     (Sees 
Joseph.)   Oh!  The  dumb  fellow.    To  be  dumb  is 


very  bad  for  the  voice.  He  is  the  chief's  second. 
Every  one  obeys  liiin.  An  idea.  With  his  bur- 
nous I  could  perhaps  escape. 

Joseph  (aside).     He  is  resolved  not  to  go. 

Angkhor  (aside) .  Let  us  make  friends.  (Approach- 
ing.) 

Joseph  (aside) .  He  approaches.  If  he  should  dis- 
cover. 

Angenor.     Good-day,  poor  mute. 

Joseph  (aside).  True.  I 'm  always  dumb.  That  is 
lucky. 

Angenor.  I '11  speak  Arab.  That  will  flatter  him. 
Barboucha  bitter  bock,  alhambra,  alkali  rue  d'A- 
boukir.  I  '11  propose  a  cigar.  Alsmoko !  (Joseph 
sneezes.)  That  is  the  dumb  for  "  yes,"  I  suppose. 
(Gives  cigar.)  Noav  for  a  light.  (Takes  match 
ang  rubs  it  nn  grotto.  Joseph,  in  terror,  points  to 
powder.)  What 's  the  matter?  Has  he  swallowed 
a  snake?  Ah!  I  remember,  the  powder!  The 
deuce!  (Betires from  grotto.)  I  was  about  to 
do  a  clever  thing.  I  must  not  lose  time,  and 
I  must  have  that  burnous.  He  cannot  cry  for 
help.  Here  goes!  (Struggles  for  burnous.)  He 
holds  on  to  it.  (Takes  him  by  the  throat.)  I 
want  that  burnous. 

(Struggle.   Joseph  throws  Angenor  and  then  recedes.) 

Joseph  (holding  him  in  fear).  Well,  what  do  you  sav 

to  that? 
Angenor  (staggered) .     A  speaking  mute ! 
Joseph.      Yes,  I   can  speak.      It  is  for  you   to   be 

dumb,   or  I  '11  send  you  to  join  the  real  mute 

whom  I  have  thrown  into  the  ravine. 
Angenor  (seeing  the  xiniform  under  the  half-opened 

burnous).     Ah!   that  uniform!     A  fellow-coun- 
tryman !     (Tries  to  embrace  him,  but  is  repelled.) 
Joseph.     What  do  you  mean  by  fellow-countryman? 
Angenor.     Prisoner.     Professor.     Snuff-box. 
Joseph  (recognizing  him) .    Ah!  the  professor!     And 

I  am  the  hairdresser  of  the  Opera. 
Angenor.     The  hairdresser!     The  Rotunda  of  the 

Temple!     Ah!     (TJieij  embrace.) 
Joseph.     Was  it  you  we  tried  to  exchange? 
Angenor.     The  same.     We  are  in  danger.     I  want 

to  escape  and  bring  assistance. 
Joseph.     I,— the  same. 
Angenor.     And  to  escape  recognition,  I  wanted  that 

red  burnous  of  the  mute. 
Joseph.     So  did  I,— and  I  got  it.     Wait.     With  a 

beard  you  will  not  be  recognized.     (Puts  a  beard 

on  him.)     There,  go  ! 
Angenor.     Wait.     (Goes  to  grms  standing  hg  grotto.) 
Joseph.     What  are  you  doing? 
Angenor  (emptying  his  gourd  of  water  in  gun  barrels) 

Drowning  the  powder. 
Joseph.      Bravo !      They  may  pursue  us,  but  they 

can't  flre  on  ns.     Now  let  us  part. 
Angenor.     But  I  don't  know  the  road,  and  there  are 

no  names  to  the  streets. 
Joseph.     I'm  as  badly  off.     We  must  trust  to  luck. 

(Sees  that  they  have  changed  hats  after  the  struggle) 

One  moment,  you  have  ray  turban. 

Angenor.  And  you,  my  fez.  (They  exchange.) 
NoAv,  each  go  his  way,  for  life  or  death.  I'll 
save  Fauvette.     (Exit  L.) 

Joseph.     And  I'  11  save  Pierre.     But  the  over-affec- 
.    tionate  Arab  lady  who  was  to  show  me  the  way. 

Zklie.  (Entering.  Aside.)  I  can't  ti.ul  that  miser- 
able Angenor. 


FAUVETTE.  ^7 

Joseph.     Ah,  ah !    (Makes  a  noise  with  his  voice.) 

Zelie  (addressing  Joseph  R.;  Come !  I  want  to  tell 
you  —  that  I  am  waiting  for  you. 

Joseph.  Ah,  Joseph !  Carried  off, — and  by  a  woman  ! 
(E.cit  with  Zelie.  j 

(Enter  Ahmed.  Angenor,  in  custody  of  two  Arabs,  and 
Ali.j 

Ahmed.  All  is  ready.  We  depart  at  once.  All,  go 
and  bring  the  Frenchwoman  and  my  wives. 
(£".(•/(  Ali.)  And  you!  (To  Axgexou)  So  you 
tried  to  escape  ? 

Angenor.  Escape?  When  I  am  so  comfortable 
here,  and  have  been  appointed  a  professor  in 
your  conservatory  ?  I  have  already  given  a  les- 
son to  your  wives.  They  have  beaten  me.  In 
fact,  one  of  them  bit  me.  I  resign.  There  is 
too  much  biting  and  too  little  solfeggio. 

Ahmed.  Enough!  My  wives  and  companions  are 
coming  hither.  I  have  prepared  a  fine  entertain- 
ment for  them. 

Angenor.  An  entertainment !  So  much  the  better. 
I  am  happy  to  be  invited.  (Aside)  Because  I 
can't  help  myself. 

Ahmed.  Ah,  here  is  another  guest !  rFAUVEXTE  is 
brought  in  by  All  Angenor  goes  to  her.']  The 
death  of  an  enemy  is  a  pleasure  to  everybody.  I 
am  going  to  have  the  head  of  an  insolent 
officer. 

Fauvette  (overwhelmed).     Ah!     (Almost fainting .) 

Angenor  (supporting  her,  and  looking  at  Ahmed). 
Devil ! 


Omnes.  Allah!  Allah! 

It  is  with  joy  at  heart 

We  hear  the  signal  to  depart. 

Warriors  !  Up,  away ! 

Seek  the  glorious  fray ! 

Mount  the  prancing  steed. 

And,  like  the  whirhvind,  speed 

To  the  field  of  death  ! 

Onward,  onward  dashing, 
With  our  swords  and  spears, 
In  the  sunlight  flashing. 

Hurrah!  Hurrah! 
Martial  music  clashing, 
Allah!  Allah! 

(  Enter  Zelie). 
Zelie.        We  can  now  fly.  (Sees  Arabs, and  shrieks.) 

Too  late ! 
Ahmed.      That  I  can  dare  to  do  the  right, 

I  noAV  will  make  clear,  in  your  sight. 
(To  ALi)The  prisoner  bring  forth!' 
Fauvette  {to  Ahmed  )    One  word ! 

Oh,  mercy  cherish ! 

Let  not  the  loved  one  perish; 

Spare  him,  and  set  him  free, 

And  yours  I  '11  be. 

Here  at  your  feet 

I  mercy  entreat. 

Let  him  go  free, 

And  take  me ! 
Ahmed.      Ah.  now  I  know 

You  love  this  man,  my  foe; 

And  yourself  you  give 

That  he  may  live. 

Fauvette.     Yield  j'our  cru-:"!  pride, 
Free  this  soldier  daring, 
Life  and  honor  sparing. 
And  I  am  your  bride. 

Ahmed.      Her  tears  for  him  cannot  assuage 

My  stern  resolve,  nor  calm  my  rage. 


18 


FAUVETTE. 


Fauvette  and  Zelie  {ensemble). 

Let  I  !|'-^'  I  tears  for  him 

And  I  ll^j.  I  prayers  assuage 

Your  stern  and  harsh  resolve, 
And  calm  your  rage. 
Ahmed.      No,  your  tears  for  him  cannot  assuage, etc. 
Omnes.       No,  her  tears  for  him  cannot  assuage,  etc. 
Ahmed  {gently.)     I  cannot,  will  not  promise. 
{Aaide  to  All) 
Now  take  away  the  maiden  on  my  swiftest 
steed. 
Fauvette  {to  Zelie  and  St.  Angenor). 

Ah,  joy  !  he  melts.     Can  it  be  so ! 
Ahmed  {to  All) 

We  meet  at  Mascara.  Now  quickly  go ! 
Fauvette,  Angenor  and  T-eiae  are  escorted  off  by  Alt, 
after  some  ludicrous  bowing   by   Zelie   a7id  St. 
Angenor  before  Ahmed.     Ahmed  tmtches  their 
departure  as  Joseph  enters  from  grotto. 
Joseph.      'T  is  Pierre  that  I  am  seeking, 
To  save  him  from  his  fate ; 
"We  both  must  oft'  be  sneaking. 
Or  soon  't  will  be  too  late. 
Ahmed     {to  Joseph)  . 

Ah,  Bou  Malek! 

Tliis  falchion  keen-controlling ! 

We  place  in  you  the  trust, 
To  send  yon  man's  head  rolling, 
And  make  it  bite  the  dust. 
Joseph  {taking  sword  luith  terror). 

{Aside)  Ah!  what  did  he  then  say? 
Ahmed.      Quick  end  it,  and  away ! 

Upon  ns  time  is  pressing. 
Now  let  this  Frenchman  feel 
An  Arab's  blessing. 
O.MNES.       This  falchion  keen-controlling,  etc. 
Ahmed.     Now,  Frenchman,  meet  your  fate. 

(Pierre  is  brought  in  by  Arabs.) 
Pierre.     Death  comes  to  all,  or  soon  or  late, 
Arab,  born  of  slavery. 
Learn  now  that  I 
Your  threats  defy. 
I  'm  of  France,  that  land  of  glory 
"Whose  proud  sons  are  famed  in  .story 

For  honor  and  for  bravery. 
To  plead  for  life  I  scorn. 

Take  it,  if  'tis  Fate's  decree; 
But  heed  me  when  I  w^arn 
That  before  another  morn 

"Well  avenged  my  death  shall  be ! 

Ahmed  {savagely).     No  more! 

(  Two  Arabs  are  about  to  conduct  Pierre  to  a  slope 

in   the   rocks.      He    stops  them  with  a  gesture. 

Ahmed,  the  Arabs  and  the  xooman  make  room. 

Joseph  is  by  the  slope.) 

Ahmed    {to  Joseph,  ichom  he  still  mistakes  for  Box 
Malek).     Bou  Malek,  go! 

(Joseph  hesitates  and  trembles.     Suddenly  he  tears 
off  his  beard  and  burnous.) 


Joseph.     The  end  has  come.     'T  is  I ! 
Pierre.     What!  you? 

(Joseph  gives  Pierre  his  sword.) 
There!  Wlio's  afraid? 
We'll  die  together.     Hope  is  gone  ! 
Omnes.       Ah,  a  spy !  We  're  betrayed ! 
JOESPH.      And  now  the  song  of  the  swan. 
{The  Arabs  go  for  their    guns.     Joseph  leaps  on 
the  slope,  protected  by  Pierre,  who  holds  the  foe 
at  a  distance  with  the  sword,  and  then  bloics  his 
trumpet.) 
Ahmed.   To  arms !   Quickly !   Fire ! 
{The    Arabs  present    their  guns;  but  they  do  not 
explode,  the  powder  being  wet.    Trumpets  heard 
in  distance.) 
Omnes.     Ah,  fly ! 

{Exeunt  hastily  all  the  Arabs.) 

Ahmed  {aside  and  lighting  slow  match). 

For  revenge  't  is  the  hour. 
( To  Pierre)  She  is  still  in  my  power.  {Exit  hastily.') 
Pierre.     Indeed!     {Follows  him  eagerly .) 

{French  soldiers  appear  coming  up  ravine.      Joseph 
sounds  the  charge.) 

Omnes.     Vive  la  France !     {Exeunt  in  pursuit.) 

(Joseph  seizes  flag,  and  is  about  to  follow  the  Zouaves, 
when  he  sees,  with  horror,  the  slow  match.  He 
becomes  terrified  and  unable  to  fly.) 

Joseph.  Ah!  the  match!  There!  We  shall  all  be 
blown  up.  I' ma  jelly.  We  are  lost.  {Staggers 
down  slope  and  falls,  seated  on  slow  match.)  "Vive 
la  France ! 

{Soldiers  return  and  are  about  to  pick  Joseph  up.) 

Omnes.      Oh,  see !  with  fear  he  is  quite  overcome ; 

Poor  coward !  with  terror,  stricken  dumb. 
Joseph  {faintly).     We're  saved!     Tons  of  powder 
are  in  there. 

Omnes  {recoiling) .     Tons  of  powder  there? 

Joseph  {pointing,  overcome,  to  the  extinct  match  on 
which  he  is  sitting).  And  the  slow  match  is 
here! 

Omnes  {joyously  lifting  Joseph  on  their  shoulders). 
Ah  !  our  preserver  is  here. 

{Trumpets  sound  and  drums  beat,  as  Joseph  is  carried 
around  on  their  shoulders. ) 


Omnes. 


Unto  his  courage  let  us  honor  pay, 

On  him  rest  fame  and  glory  from  to-day. 


Pierre  (returning  in  disorder). 

My  Fauvette  they  have  taken ; 

But  Ave  know  where  they  are ; 
Forward,  friends,  follow  quickly 
To  Mascara ! 

Omnes.      To  Mascara ! 

( The  French  ready  to  depart.  Trecoxtrt  has  planted 
the  French  flag  on  the  rock.  An  Arab  leaps  in 
concealment,  upon  him.  Trecourt  picks  the 
Arab  up,  and  throws  him  into  the  ravine.) 


PICTURE,—  AND  CURTAIN  DROPS. 


ACT    III. 


Scene.—  A  aquare  in  Mascara.  On  one  side,  an  Arab 
bazaar.  0«  the  other,  the  ruins  of  a  palace.  At 
the  back,  the  city.  At  the  rise  of  the  curtain  : 
Arab."^,  merchants,  men  and  women  excitedly  mov- 
ing about  in  fear.  Some  rush  in  terrified  from 
without. 

Chorus. 
The  enemy ! 
All,  let  us  flee. 
The  city  is  taken, 
And  we're  forsaken. 
Our  goods  away, 

From  plunder  carry. 
'Tis  death  to  stay, 
No  longer  tarry. 

(The  Arabs  are  about  to  fly,  tvhen  the  French 
Soldiers  appear.) 

Soldiers  {presenting  bayonets).    Not  so  far! 
Arabs.     'T  is  the  foe. 

Spare  us,  by  Allah!  oh,  spare! 
Soldiers.     For  that  do  we  come,  you  must  know. 
Trecourt.     These  orders  min'^',  or  else  beware. 
Be  quiet  and  let  us  rule  at  ease. 

No  questions  ask,  but  rest  contented. 
To  do  exactly  as  we  please. 

By  you  we  must  not  be  prevented. 
We  '11  hear  whate'er  complaints  you  make. 

Right  wrongs  where'er  you  find  them, 
But  you  must  no  objection  take 

If  we  should  not  mind  them. 
Soldiers,  Bedouins,  hear  the  law, 

And  take  care  that  you  obey. 
Notliing  say,  and  ask  not  why. 
Do  what  you  're  told; — make  no  reply. 
Soldiers.     Soldiers,  Bedouins,  etc. 
Trecourt.     And  furthermore:  if  from  us  you 
Expect  to  have  protection, 
Whate'er  we  say,  whate'er  we  do. 

You  must  make  no  objection. 
Gallant  unto  the  fair  we  '11  be; — 

We  are  a  gallant  nation, 
And  unto  them  we  '11  guarantee 

Our  best  consideration. 
Soldiers,  Bedouins,  etc. 
Soldiers.     Soldiers,  Bedouins,  etc. 
Trecourt.     Yes.     The  city  is  taken,  and  the  cam- 
paign is  over.     You  are  no  longer  our  enemies, 
but  our  proteges.     Open  the  bazaars.     Buy,  sell, 
and  cheat  as  usual. 
Cransac.     The  only  restriction  is  that  nobody  shall 
leave  Mascara  without  a  passport  from  the  gen- 
eral;   for  we  suspect  the  Arab  chief,  who  out- 
raged a  flag  of  truce  is  still  here. 
Trecourt.     Yes;   and  if  they  find  him,  he  will  no 
longer  conduct  business' at  his  old  stand  with 
promjjtitude  and  despatch. 
Cransac.     For  the  rest  of  you,  go  and  come  as  you 

please. 
Trecourt.     And  civilize  yourselves. 
Omnes.     Long  live  the  French!    (Exeunt.) 
Trecourt  (looking  off).     Ah!  Our  comrades! 
[Enter  Pierre,  Joseph,  and  Soldiers  marching, 
JosKPH  at  the  head  sounding  his  trumpet.) 


Pierre,     Halt!  Front  face!  Break  ranks! 
Trecourt.     Ah,  lieutenant!     You  are  mentioned  in 
the  general's  despatches,  and  so  is  Joseph.    They 
will  be  proud  of  you  in  the  Temple  Kotunda. 
Pierre.     Thanks,  Trecourt. 
Joseph.     It    is    true,    we   were   the   first    to   enter 

Mascara. 
Pierre  (to  Joseph  and  Trecourt).     I  wished   to 

free  Fauvette.     I  was  mid  to  hope  it. 
Trecourt.     Oh  lieutenant,  we  shall  find  her,  never 

fear. 
Pierre  {with  a  sigh).    I  trust  we  may.    (To  Joseph.) 
Go  to  the  general,  and  tell  him,  1  beg,  I  pray  him 
to  see  me. 
Joseph,     Yes,  lieutenant.     (Salutes  and  exit.) 
Trecourt  (aside  to  soldiers).     He  is  sad.    We  must 

not  trouble  him.     (They  go  up  stage.) 
Pierre.     Fauvette, —  dear  Fauvette!     Dare  I   still 
hope?    No!  It  is  folly. 

Loved  one, —  and  must  we  sever? 
Must  I  forever 

Mourn  thee  with  tears  and  sighs? 
And  shall  I  never  more  behold  thee, 
No  more  enfold  thee 

Or  gaze  into  thine  eyes? 
Ah!  if  from  thee  I  must  be  parted, 
To  peace  I  'm  lost  for  evermore, 
Absent  from  thee  I'm  broken-hearted. 
Alas!  my  di-eam  of  life  is  o'er. 

Dearest,  thy  hand  in  mine,  love. 
Mine  pressing  thine,  love, 

Shall  never  be  again. 
Ne'er  shall  the  music  of  thy  voice,  love. 
Make  me  rejoice,  love, 

And  soothe  from  life  all  pain. 
Ah !  if  from  thee  I  must  be  parted, 

To  peace,  etc. 

(Enter  Joseph.) 

Joseph.     The  general  expects  you. 

Pierre.     I  go.  And   if  he  will  consent Ah, 

friends,  we  will  hunt  this  demon  Ahmed  to  the 
centre  of  the  earth,  but  we  will  find  him. 

Omnes.    Ay,  ay! 

Joseph.  And  I  '11  go  with  you.  The  general's  reply- 
also  interests  me,    I  want  Zelie. 

Pierre  (<o  Joseph).  Come!  (To  the  others.)  Till 
we  meet  again.     (E.Ht  with  Joseph.) 

Trecourt.     We  will  await  you. 

(Enter  Angenor  in  Arab  costume.) 

Anoenor.  What  a  situation !  (Sees  .loldiers).  Ah! 
Frenchmen!  Soldiers!  Oh,  I  am  faint  with  emo- 
tion !     My  legs  fail  me !     Friends !  Preservers ! 

Trecourt  (s«r/)ri8ed).     Ah! 

Omnes  (threateningly).    What! 

Cransac.     That  face! 

Trecourt.     This  burnous!  'Tis  he!   Ahmed! 

Angenor.  Yes,  friends,  it  is  L  {They  all  surround 
him  angrily.) 

Trecourt.    Scoundrel!  Demon! 

Cransac.    Bandit!  Fiend!  [19] 


20 


FAUVETTE. 


ANGEJfOR  {alarmed).     What  now? 

Trecourt.     He  shall  be  shot  like  a  dog. 

Omnes.     Yes,  yes!     {Rusliiny  at  him  again.) 

Angenor:  Mercy,  mercy!  I'm  a  dead  man!  Let 
me  speak ! 

Tkecourt  {stopping  the  others).  Will  you  confess 
where  the  woman  is  whom  you  liMve  carried  off? 

Angenor.  Carried  off?  A  woman?  I  never  did 
such  a  thing  in  my  life.  Do  you  not  recognize 
me? 

Trecourt.     Yes.     You  are  Ahmed. 

Axgenor.  Ahmed?  Xo.  Angenor!  {Pulling  off 
his  icig  and  beard.) 

Trecourt.     The  singing  professor! 

Oii^ES  {laughing).     Ha!  ha!  ha! 

Craxsac.    There  is  a  letter  for  you  at  headquarters. 

Angenor.    A  letter? 

Trecourt.     Where  is  Fauvette?    She  was  with  you. 

Angenor.  Yes;  but  an  hour  ago  Ahmed  put  me 
into  this  ridiculous  costume,  opened  the  door, 
and  said  "Get  out!"  I  got  out, —  and  rapidly, 
believe  me.  He  has  doubtless  disguised  my 
pupil  also. 

Tbecourt.  He  must  still  be  in  the  city,  for  no  one 
can  depart  without  a  safe-conduct  from  the  gen- 
eral himself. 

Angenor.  So  much  the  better.  But  I  can't  remain 
in  these  monkey  clothes.  They  are  too  danger- 
ous. 

Tbecourt.     We'll  find  you  something  else.      But 
you  must  first  see  the  lieutenant. 
{Enter  Joseph.) 

Joseph.  He  is  with  the  general.  We  are  to  meet 
him  here  in  an  hour. 

Angenor  {going  to  him).  The  mute,—  the  hair- 
dresser. 

Joseph  {recoiling).  Go  away.  (Recognizes  him.) 
The  professor!  What  has  happened  to  you  since 
we  parted? 

(Enter  Tarata.) 

Tarata.  Sound  the  trumpet!  Beat  the  drum!  Glo- 
rious news !  The  woman  that  you  believed  to  be 
lost 

Joseph.    Yes? 

Tabata.    Is  found. 

Angenor.    Fauvette? 

Tabata.    No,  Zelie. 

Joseph.    Zelie? 

Tabata.    She  is  here. 

{Enter  Zelie  as  a  vivandiere.) 

Zelie.     My  Joseph!    {Embraces  Joskpu.) 

Angenor.    What,  a  vivandiere? 

Zelie.     Tarata  loaned  me  one  of  her  uniforms. 

Angenor.     And  Fauvette? 

Zelie.  I  know  not.  An  hour  ago  Ahmed  made  me 
dress  as  an  odalisque.  Then  he  opened  the  door 
and  said  — 

Angenor.     "  Get  out!  "  I  know. 

Zelie.  I  went.  But  the  streets  were  full  of 
soldiers  who  all  wished  to  kiss  or  embrace  me. 
Happily  I  met  with  the  Zouaves. 

Joseph  (dubiously).     And  were  they  more  reserved? 

Zelie.  No,  on  the  contrary.  But  when  I  told 
them  that  I  was  the  beloved  of  the  trumpeter 
Joseph,  they  took  me  to  Tarata, —  and  here  I 
am,  clothes  and  all. 

Joseph.  Never  mind,— clothies  or  no  clothes,— I 
]iave  found  you  again  and  am  satisfied. 


Trecourt  (a.<iide  to  the  others).    Leave  them  to  their 

outpourings  of  love.     They  have  much  lost  time 

to  make  up. 
Angenoh  {to  Trecourt).      And  take  me  to    your 

lieutenant. 
Trecourt.     Follow  me,  great  tenor.      {iiings  effu- 
sively) Tra-la-la! 
Angenor.     What  a  voice  he  has!    I  must  teach  him 

my   method.      {All    exeunt,    except    Zelie    and 

Joseph.) 
Joseph.     And  is  it  really  you?    I  can't  realize  it  yet. 

What  experiences  we  have  had !     But  all  is  over 

now.     We  are  soon  to  return  to  France.     Once 

there, —  I'll  do  you  the  honor  to  marry  you. 

7,¥AAE  {uneasily).     Marry  me!     I  — I 

Joseph.     What  now? 

Zelie  (aside).     If  he  should  ever  hear  of  my  kissing 

that  dumb  fellow!    {Aloud)  When  one  marries, 

there  should  be  nothing  with  which  to  reproach 

oneself. 
Joseph  {aside).     She  has  heard  of  my  gallivanting 

with  that  woman.      {Aloud)  Oh,  you  mean  the 

Arab  girl! 
Zelie  {embarrassed)..    With  the  mute?  Yes. 
Joseph  (a.s/df).     The  gabblers!    (vI/ohJ)  Oh,  it  was 

a  matter  of  no  importance  whatever.  * 
Zelie  (astonished).     Then  you  do  not  think  it  was 

wrong? 
Joseph.     Such  trifles  do  not  count.     I  know  I  have 

not  been  exactly  faithful,  but 

Zelie  {angrily).     What!     You  too? 

Joseph  {alarmed).      What  do  you  mean  by  me  too? 

Zklie.     Oh,  nothing!    I  was  about  to  say  —  I 

And  so  you  have  been  unfaithful  to  me? 
Joseph.     Not  in  my  heart.     It  was  in  a  good  cause. 
Zelie.     A  good  cause!  Monster! 
Joseph.     I  wished  to  escape,  and  it  was  necessary 

I    should    win  over  somebody  who  knew   the 

locality. 

Joseph.     My  fault,  if  so  you  take  it. 

In  aim  was  good. 
For  friendship  did  I  make  it, 

As  friendship  should. 
If  wrong  was  my  affection. 

Away  from  thee, 
I  was  in  deep  dejection 

For  Pierre,  you  see. 
I  played  with  my  affection, — 

For  Pierre,  you  see ! 
And  to  tell  you  true  — 
In  serving  Pierre  I  found  pleasure,  too. 

Zelik.     All !  I  see  now,  and  I  also 

Joseph.     What,  unfaithful?    Oh,  woman!     False? 
Zelie.     Not  in  my  heart.     It  was  in  a  good  cause. 
Joseph.     A  good  cause?    Oli,  lickle  gentleness! 
Zelir.     I   wished  to  escape,   and   I   had  to  cajole 
somebody  who  knew  the  locality. 

Zelie.       I  wished  to  save  his  loved  one, 

Her  life  ))roteot.— 
I  flirted  with  another; 

Vou  o;in't  object. 
In  me  the  act  was  noble, 

Was  good, —  sublime. 
To  servo  a  friend,  you  surely 

Don't  think  a  crime. 
Though  it  displease  you, 

I  must  admit  't  is  true, 
In  serving  jioor  Fauvette, 

I  found  a  pleasure,  too. 

Joseph.    Ah !  both  of  us !  But  it  is  different  in  your 
case.     I'm  a  man!     How  can  I  marry  you,  and 


FAUVETTE. 


21 


have  somebody  else  say  he  kissed  you  after  we 

were  engaged? 
Zelie.    But  he  will  not  say  it,  he  is  dumb. 
Joseph.     Dumb!     What,  are  there  two  of  them? 
Zelie.     Two?  No,  only  one.    The  fellow  that  I  met 

at  the  grotto. 
Joseph  {with  hope).     At  the  grotto?    Give  me  the 

particulars,  and  be  particular  youx'self. 
Zelie.     Ah,  I  dare  not,  I  was  so  bold. 
Joseph.     Firstly,  you  made  advances  to  him:  told 

him  that  he  was  beautiful. 

Zelie.     Gross  flattery,  I  admit. 

Joseph.     And  you  told  him  — 

"  But  of  her  foot  to  gain  a  sight. 

Or  press  her  hand,  is  not  a  sin," 

Zelie  {puzzled).    Exactly. 

Joseph.     And  he  replied  to  you,  "  Hi,  hi,  hi,  hi !  " 

Zelie.     Yes,  well? 

Joseph.    It  was  I. 

Zelie.    Ah,  Joseph ! 

Joseph.    Ah,  Zelie!    {They  einbrace.) 

Both.       Perhaps  to  be  sincere 

And  to  tell  you  true, 

T  •  (  Fauvette 

In  serving  poor  jpi^j.^.^ 

Was  to  me  a  pleasure,  too. 

( Trumpet  in  distance  outride.     The  Zouaves  cross 

the  stage  running.) 

Joseph.     Hollo!    What  now?    Is  it  a  call  to  arms? 

I  must  go. 

Zelie.     And  I'll  go  with  you.     You  don't  quit  my 

sight  again  before  I  have  married  you  beyond 

recall.     {They  exeunt  singing  and  dancing  refrain 

of  the  last  duet.) 

(Ali  enters  from  the  ruins  with  another  Arab.) 

All     The  soldiers  have  gone!     {To  Arab)  Go,  and 

tell  the  master  that  the  Frenchwoman  is  here. 

Go!     {Exit  Arab,     Speaking  at  the  door  of  the 

ruins)  Come!  We  will  await  the  chief  here. 

(Fauvette  enters  from  ruins,  attired  as  a  camel- 

iriver.) 

Fauvette.     I  will  wait. 

Ali.     And  I  will  watch.     {Exit  cautiously.) 

Fauvette  {looking  o^ff).  Something  unusual  is  tak- 
ing place.  Scarcely  had  we  reached  this  place 
when  we  were  obliged  to  leave  the  dwelling  the 
Arab  chief  had  chosen  for  us.  They  separated 
me  from  Zelie  and  Angenor,  then  made  me  don 
this  costume  and  hide  in  these  ruins.  What  can 
have  happened?  But  why  disturb  myself? 
Pierre  is  safe,  for  the  chief  has  sworn  it.  As 
for  me,  what  have  I  to  fear?  I  am  no  longer 
afraid  of  this  terrible  Ahmed.  He  is  in  love, — 
and  is  now  only  a  man. 

Fauvette.     Yes,  he  is  saved;  hope  is  returning. 

And  night  has  changed  to  smiling  morn; 
Within  my  heart  is  joy  reborn, 
With  love,  regret  and  tender  yearning. 
And  this  chief  so  fierce  and  brave, 
A  savage  dreaded  far  and  near: 
Like  a  child, 
Meek  and  mild, 
There  at  my  feet  he  kneels  a  slave. 
He  loves,  is  but  a  man !  no  more  I  fear. 
Ah!  poor  women  that  we  are. 
Weaker  than  proud  man  by  far; 
But  when  we  would  have  our  way. 
Who  shall  say  us  Nay? 
For  in  our  hands,  as  clay, 
Since  the  world  began, 
Is  man. 


This  son  of  warfare,  wild  and  daring, 
Spared,  in  his  pride,  a  rival's  life. 
Against  him  can  I  wage  no  strife; 
And  still  am  I  not  yet  despairing. 
This  noble  lion,  in  his  heart 
A  rankling  wound  doth  bear 
That  costs  him  dear. 
'T  is  I  alone  can  cure  the  smart. 
My  master  is  my  slave. 
His  power  I  brave. 
He  loves,  is  but  a  man!  no  more  I  fear. 
Ah !  poor  women  that  we  are,  etc. 
{Enter  Ahmed  as  a  camel-driver,  and  All) 
Ahmed.     Thus   attired  we  are    safe.     Come,  you 

must  follow  me. 
Fauvette.     I  am  ready.     But  answer  me.     Pierre 

is  safe? 
Ahmed.     Have  I  not  sworn  it  ?    The  man  you  love 

has  no  more  to  fear  from  me. 
Fauvette.      Then  I  shall  follow  you  where  you 

will, 
Ahmed.     Listen,     The  French  still  occupy  the  city. 
Fauvette  [with  aery  of  hope).    Ah! 
Ahmed.     A  cry,  a  word,  a  gesture  from  you,  and 
we  are  lost.    Remember,  the  life  of  the  man  you 
love  shall  answer  for  your  silence.     Eetray  me, 
and   were   he  surrounded  by  soldiers,  I  would 
find  out  a  means  to  reach  him  and  to  stab  him 
to  the  heart. 
Fauvette  {with fear).     I  will  not  betray  you, 

{Enter  Trecourt  and  Cransac) 
Fauvette  {a.<iide).     Trecourt! 

Ahmed  {quickly   to  Fauvette).     Silence    or  your 

lover  is  lost  to  you  forever,      {To  Trecourt) 

Is  it  true  that  no  one  can  leave  Mascara  without 

a  safe-conduct? 

Trecourt.     It  is.     We  wish  to  capture  a  scoundrel 

named  Ahmed.     Do  you  know  him? 
Ahmed.     Perhaps, 

Cransac,     He  appears  to  be  a  very  estimable  dog. 
Trecourt  {slapping  Ahmed  on  shoulder).    If  I  only 

once  lay  my  hand  on  him. 
Ahmed  {disengaging  himself).     They  say  he  is  very 

cunning.     He  will  escape  you. 
Cransac,     That  is  why  we  guard  every  gate. 
Ahmed,     But  these  gates  will  open  for  us,  whose 

business  is  on  the  desert. 
Trecourt  {looking  at  Ahmed  and  Fauvette).  What 

do  you  do  there? 
Ahmed.     We  are  camel-drivers. 
Trecourt.      Camel-drivers?     What  do  you  drive 

them  for? 
Ahmed  {aside  to  Fauvette),   Echo  me,  so  that  they 
may  not  suspect  who  you  are,    {Aloud)  Listen, 
Frenchman. 
Ahmed.     O'er  the  desert  vast  and  dreary, 

Goes  the  camel-driver  gay. 
Fax:vette.  O'er  the  desert  vast  and  dreary, 

Goes  the  camel-driver  gay. 
Ahmed.        Singing,  for  aye, 
As  on  his  way. 
Wanders  he,  ne'er  growing  weary. 
Fauvette.  Singing,  for  aye,  etc. 
Holla,— he!  Ah! 
Both.        He  braves  the  sand-storm's  deathly  tide, 
He  braves  the  simoom's  fiery  heat; 
His  gay  refrain  serves  as  a  guide 
Unto  the  trembling  traveller's  feet. 
Ah!  Holla— he! 
Ahmed.     Of  the  boundless  desert,  surely. 
Do  we  know  the  trackless  plan. 


22 


FAUVETTE. 


Fauvette.    Of  the  boundless,  etc. 

Ahmed.     On  its  lordly  way,  securely, 
Guide  we,  too,  the  caravan. 

Fauvette.     On  its  lordly  way,  securely, 
Guide  we,  too,  the  caravan. 
Holla  — he!  Ah! 

Both.        Across  the  vast  and  dreary  plain 
A  lover  hastes,  his  fair  to  meet. 
And  as  he  hears  our  gay  refrain. 
It  serves  to  speed  his  weary  feet. 
Ah!  Holla— he! 

Tbecourt.  I  understand  now.  You  are  guides  for 
dromedaries  and  other  humpback  cavalry. 

Ckansac.  Well,  Bedouin,  come  with  me.  You 
shall  have  your  passport ;  but  you  must  pay  for 
something  to  drink.     I  am  parched  with  thirst. 

Ahmed.    'T  is  well. 

Tbecourt.  I  will  go  to  the  canteen  and  have  some 
punch  made.     (Exit.) 

Ahmed  (aside  to  Fauvette).  You  understand.  You 
are  to  pass  as  the  wife  of  a  chief.  Go,  and 
change  your  attire  and  await  me  here. 

Fauvette.    But 

Ahmed.  You  have  sworn.  Take  care.  (Fauvette 
enters  the  ruins  with  Ali,  who  guards  her.) 

Ckansac.    Well,  Arab,  I  am  ready. 

Ahmed.    And  I. 

Cbansac  {takes  his  arm).  Then  we'll  go.  Perhaps 
you  can  tell  us  something  of  this  villain,  Ahmed. 

Now,  if  we  can  only  lay  hands (Exit,  talking 

with  Ahmed.) 

(Trecourt  re-enters  with  Zouaves.) 

Tbecourt.  All  is  ready,  Cransac  —  eh  ?  Why,  where 
is  the  hero  of  the  festival  ? 

(Enter  Angexor  dressed  as  one  of  the  musicians  of  a 
military  band.) 

Angenor.     Here  he  is.     (All  laugh.) 

Tbecourt.  The  professor  !  We  are  not  waiting 
for  y(tu.  But  what  the  deuce  does  this  dress 
mean  ? 

Angenor.  A  musician's  uniform  I  have  borrowed. 
The  colonel  gave  his  permission,  induced  by  my 
promise  to  play  the  bass-tuba.  As  I  said  to  the 
colonel Well,  hear  what  I  said  to  the  col- 
onel :  — 

ST.  ANGENOR. 

I  like  the  military  band  ! 

It  marks  step  with  a  rat-a-plan. 
At  parade  "t  is  in  the  van  ! 

In  fight  it  in  the  rear  doth  stand. 
I  really  love  the  band.    (Marches.) 

The  regimental  music  makes 
The  soldier's  step  elastic 

And  to  his  movements  it  implants 
A  freedom  quite  gymnastic. 

And  in  the  future,  generals, 
Thanks  to  their  band,  may  know 

How  they  in  perfect  time  can  hurl 
Destruction  on  the  foe. 
Angenor.     But  where  is  the  lieutenant  ? 
Tbecourt.    A  moment  ago  something  of  importance 
occurred,  and  the  regiment  is  under  arms  again. 
But  attention,  lads!     Vive  .Joseph ! 
(Enter  Joseph  decorated,  arm  in  arm  with  Zelie.) 
Angenor.    Eh !     The  hairdresser, —  and  decorated ! 
Tbecourt.     Hail  to  the  hero  of  the  po wder- barrels ! 
Omnes.     Fii'e  Joseph! 
Angenor     Then  you  are  brave,  after  all. 
Joseph.     Yes,  I  have  been  a  verv  fury  of  courage  — 
but  it  cost  me  a  great  deal  of  resolution.   (Shoio- 
ing  his  trumpet.)  This  is  what  saved  you  all,  in 
the  moment  of  peril. 


Trecourt.     That  and  your  coat-tails,  Joseph. 
Joseph.    Now,  if  Fauvette  were  only  found. 
(Enter  Tarata  with  barrel  over  her  shoulder  and  a 

cup  in  her  hand.) 
Trecourt,     Ah  !  lads  !  Come,  come. 

(They  go  up  and  surround  Tar  ATA.) 
Ahmed  (re-enters  with  Cransac).     Then  with  this 

safe-conduct  there  is  nothing  to  fear. 
Cransac.     Absolutely  nothing. 
Ahmed.     Then  we  '11  go.     (Goes  to  ruins  and  calls) 
Come  ! 

(Enter  Pierre  from  opposite  side.) 
Pierre.     Hear  the  order,  lads  !  (Ahmed  turns  at  the 
sound  of  the  voice.      Pierre  recognizing  him.) 
Ahmed  ! 
Ahmed  (aside).     He! 

(Fauvette  enters  from  ruins.) 
Fauvette  (sees  Pierre).     Pierre! 
Piehbr    (opens  his  arms).     Ah,    Fauvette!      (They 

embrace.) 
Ahmed.     I  must  fly. 

Joseph  (sto2)s  him  at  back).      Not  just  now. 
Ahmed  (runs  to  ruins).     You  do  not  hold  me  yet. 
Trecourt  (loho  a  moment  before  entered  the  ruins, 
after  Favvette  came  from  them).     The  game  is 
blocked  this  way. 
(^HMED  rushes  to  different  entrances,  but  is  met  by 
French  soldiers  with  fixed  bayonets.) 
Soldiers.    Halt!  Cease  to  fly! 

No  one  goes  this  way. 
Halt,  without  delay! 
One  more  step,  and  you  die. 
Ahmed  (resignedly). 

It  was  decreed.     My  fate  is  sealed. 
Great  is  Allah !     To  you  I  yield. 
Fauvette  {to  Pierre). 

Let  no  cloud  mar  this  joyous  day. 
Set  him  at  large. 
Pierre.     I  will  obey.     (To  Ahmed)  Away! 
Trecourt.  Go,  and  Bon  voyage  ! 
Ahmed.     Freed,  and  by  you !  My  soul  doth  burn, 
With  deep  humiliation! 
Ere  to  the  desert  I  return, 
I  bow  before  your  nation. 
(Exit  with  Ali.) 
Joseph  (shouting  after  him). 

Thank  you  for  nothing,  my  good  friend. 
Zelie  (reproving). 

He  meant  well;  and  so  let  it  end. 
Cransac  (to  St.Angenor).      Master,  a  letter  from 
the  Minister. 

(Hands  him  letter.) 
St.Angenor  (reads).     Can  it  be  true? 

It  comes  at  last,  although  belated. 
(WithjoT/)  I  have  the  post  for  which  I've  waited! 
(To  Fauvette)  Your  liberty  I  give  to  you. 
Fauvette.    Soon  we  for  Paris  will  depart, 

Where  we  all  four  will  wedded  be. 
I  will  the  signal  give  to  start  — 

Attention,  forward,  march! 
Our  wedding-ring  the  priest  will  bless. 
O.MNES.  Kat-a-plan ! 

Fauvette.  And  crown  our  lives  with  happiness. 
Omnes.  Rat-a-plan! 

Fauvette  (to  the  public). 

Joy,  full  and  perfect,  shall  we  feel 
If  you  our  passports  sign  and  seal. 
Omnes.  Rat-a-plan! 

CURTAIN. 


Syracuse,  n.  I. 
Stockton,  Cilif. 


ML50.M45.F3  1890 


C037462874 


y.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


CD37^bEa7^ 


DATEDIIEJ 


Music  Library 

University  of  CaUfomia  at 

Berkeley 


% 


